


Darling, don't be afraid

by emmadilla



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel in the background, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-12-25 04:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/emmadilla
Summary: Emmeline just lives a normal life, working a normal job and hanging out with normal friends. Sure, she really likes the show Supernatural, but she knows that it's notreal. Until, that is, she receives one fateful text that turns her world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was written in response to a prompt in the group "Destiel Forever" on facebook. I hope y'all enjoy this! The title is a lyric from the sound "One Thousand Years" by Christina Perri, which I thought was fitting for Sam and Emmeline.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously?” I said out loud and _yet another_ Deathclaw popped out of seemingly nowhere. I groaned as I pulled out my Fat Boy, just so done and over this shit. Deathclaws had intimidated me early on in the game, as I’m sure they did most Fallout players, but after a while they just became a nuisance. If I didn’t want to play around, I pulled out the Fat Boy and shot a mini-nuke at them. That usually took care of them pretty good. After he was cooked, I pulled my normal gun out - the N-7, a modded gun that used 5.56mm ammo. It was a fairly strong gun and looked cool, so I tended to use it more often than any other weapon. I had just looted the final body and went to check my map when my doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of my food order. _Sweet_. I paused and went to answer the door, tipping the delivery woman before taking my food inside and closing and locking the door. I grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge before I plopped down in front of the TV again, saving my game before I switched to my Amazon Prime app and pulled up my favourite show: Supernatural. I had watched it … hell, I didn’t know how many times I had binged seasons, but it was well into double digits at this point. I had just finished up season 9, and was due to start season 10 tonight. I set it up to start playing as I pulled out my buffalo chicken sandwich and bacon and jalapeno stuffed cheesy bread.

 

I bite into the spicy sandwich as I started down the road thus far. Every season was a little harder to watch what the boys had gone through, every season it was a little more painful to hear _that song_ during the season finale. But I loved it. I loved the story and the characters so much I willingly put myself through it season after season after season. Time did not heal the wounds, but the repetition helped ease the pain in some way that I just couldn’t really describe. My mouth tingled ever so slightly with spice, but I hardly noticed it as Dean went cavorting with Crowley. Even though he was a demon, it was one of my favourite parts of the series. Dean had suffered so much giving all the fucks, it was fun to see him not give any for a little bit.

 

It was around 1am when I finally wrapped up and went to bed. All in all, it was a successful Friday night. I got to stay in, play some Fallout, then eat some yummy food and watch Supernatural. I couldn’t have done any better, in my opinion. Saturday night I would go spend some time with friends, if anyone was feeling up for it, but Friday night … those were my nights to spend by myself and chill.

 

The next morning, I slept in as late as I could manage, because if I was going out then I wanted to take full advantage of it and not be tired the whole time. The fun of going out was completely negated if all I wanted was to go to bed. I woke up a few times but snuggled back into the blankets until I couldn’t fall back asleep anymore. Good thing, as it was close to 12:30. Whoops. Oh well, I was well rested and ready for the night. That was really the only thing I was concerned about doing this Saturday anyway, since I had a little extra saved up and had just gotten a new dress to wear.

 

I finally dragged myself out of bed and hopped in the shower, feeling like my bones just melted as I stood under the hot stream. There were few true luxuries to me, and one of them was a hot shower. Since my hair was short - coming to rest just at my chin - washing it took little effort. If I needed to, I could be in and out in five minutes or less. But if I could, I liked to take some time.

 

After my shower, I pulled on some sweats and headed across the street real quick to visit the Circle K and pick up a polar pop. A mere seventy-three cents for 64oz of soda? Hell yes, gimme. Most of the time I got Full Throttle, an energy drink that the particular location across the street from me kept in stock in their fountain drink options. Circle K’s had some basic options that were available everywhere - like Coke, 7-up, the major names - but then each location had a few different ones that they would have. Another location a little under a mile away had Strawberry Fanta, and if I was out and about I’d grab one, but if I just needed a quick pick-me-up, I went for Full Throttle at the service station across the street. Hell, the cashiers all knew me from how often I was in and out of their store, and I slapped the change down on the counter and wished them a good day as I stepped out the door, taking a long sip. Ah, now that was refreshing.

 

Back across the street, in the confines of my apartment, I ran a blow dryer through my hair to hurry up the process. I didn’t normally blow dry my hair that often, but I did once in a while, and it didn’t take too long since I didn’t have much hair to worry about. After the last of it was dried, I ran a comb through it and pulled out my straightener. My hair tended to curl some at the end, and tonight I wanted it to look nice and sleek, so I sprayed protectant on my hair before I took the flat iron to it. With that done, I grabbed my drink and wandered into my room, grabbing my hand mirror and makeup bag and hauling it into the living room so I could sit at the coffee table and apply my war paint and sip on my drink. My normal makeup job wasn’t too wild or fancy, but when going out I liked to look nice. After the basics, I smudged on some dark eyeliner and eyeshadow, making sure I didn’t look like a raccoon by the time I was done. When I deemed it a successful look, I coated my lashes in mascara and pulled out a couple of falsies to apply. They weren’t super dramatic, but they would stick out with my look, and hell going to a club was all about sticking out. When I finished, I only had my lips left, but I left that off for now, opting to grab something to eat first. I opened my fridge to see what it might offer, tapping my finger against the door as I pondered my options, not really wanting to go out and get anything or wait for something to arrive. I finally settled on some Chinese takeout that I needed to eat before it went bad, the spicy General Tso’s chicken and fried rice sounding good to me. I took it back to the living room with me once I’d heated it up, stabbing a chunk of chicken with my fork and being careful not to smudge the makeup I’d so carefully applied. While I was eating, I could take the time to decide on a lip colour, anyway.

 

I sorted through the various lipsticks that I had, not wanting to go too wild since my eyes were so dark and emphasized, but not wanting a nude, natural shade either. I finally decided on a bright, coral-y orange colour that wasn’t too opaque and would dry matte and last long. That would be key for the night, of course. I finished up my meal and carefully applied the lipstick, making sure I didn’t have any on my teeth before I grabbed up my makeup bag and mirror and trudged back to my room to put it away. I decided I might as well go ahead and change, and I pulled the black, slinky number out of the closet, twirling around with it before I shucked the clothes I was wearing and carefully maneuvered it over my body. It was skin tight, low cut, and came several inches above my thigh. I would never wear this outside of a club, but I had found it on sale and what girl doesn’t need a little black dress?

 

With all the pauses and stops I’d made in my journey to get ready, I was surprised to look up and see that it was only 4pm. For some reason, I had expected it to be later. It was too early to head over to Ashley’s house to hang out and pre-game before we left. No matter, even though I was fully dressed and ready to go, I started up my system and decided I would play some more Fallout. I was close to the ruined church in the glowing sea that was full of ghouls, and I did so enjoy throwing molotov cocktails in from the roof.

 

I wasted time for a couple of hours that way until I deemed it an acceptable time to head on over. I grabbed the black heels that I was planning on wearing, but I slipped on a pair of flip flops for now, not wanting to punish myself any more than necessary. That would have been just silly.

 

Kendra and Paige were already at Ashley’s apartment, doing each other’s hair as they got ready. I rolled my eyes, glad that my hair was short enough I didn’t have to worry about anything like that. I may be a girl, and I may like to do girly things sometimes like put on makeup and wear dresses, but I drew the line at doing fancy shit with my hair. I kept it nice and short and manageable and in my opinion I was better off for it. I coughed as I accidentally breathed in some hair spray fumes. “Do you have to use a whole can of that shit?” I asked.

 

Paige laughed. “Oh come on, Em, it’s not _that_ bad.”

 

I waved my hand in front of my face to get the stench away. “Speak for yourself.”

 

“Emmeline!” Ashley called from the kitchen. “Get your ass in here and take this shot, will ya?”

 

I chuckled as I ducked into the small space, taking the shot glass from her. “What’s the poison tonight?”

 

“Tequila!” she replied excitedly, pouring a shot for herself.

 

“You’re trying to get us really fucked up, aren’t you?”

 

“Stop complaining and take the damn shot, will ya?”

 

I smirked as I complied, more than happy to start the party. It was a couple of hours until we would hit the club, but we liked to hang out and take shots or sip on drinks beforehand, for one because then we didn’t have to spend as much on drinks at the bar, and for two because it was fun hanging out and letting our hair down … or up, depending on the situation. We didn’t have high-stress jobs, but life was a big enough stressor that we hardly had as much fun as we used to when we were younger. These days, we didn’t go out every weekend, but we usually tried to make it out at least once or twice a month, to a restaurant if not a club or bar. Paige and I were still single, and Ashley and Kendra were always trying to set us up with _somebody_ to spend our time with other than them. Paige always took them up on it, but I politely declined most of the time. It wasn’t that I didn’t want a relationship - _gods_ , I was aching for intimacy, in both the sexual and mental aspect - but no matter who I tried to date, it just felt … well, _wrong_ , for lack of a better word. Like I was betraying someone. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but I hated to feel it so I eventually stopped dating altogether and resisted every attempt by my friends to get me with someone.

 

We were buzzing pretty nicely by the time we got to the club via a cab, and we immediately headed for the dance floor, the heavy bass thumping in my chest as I danced alongside my friends. We were at a gay club tonight, even though half of our party was straight, because they had some of the best music to dance to. I also didn’t have to worry about most guys hitting on me, the skeevy types prowling for girls getting escorted out pretty quickly and the rest of them utterly disinterested in vagina. The only ones that even tried anything were a few girls, but I was picky when it came to girls and I was good at directing them away from me. Hell, I was picky with guys, too, I wasn’t gonna lie. That combined with that weird guilty feeling that overcame me made me think that maybe I just wasn’t cut out for a relationship. At least, not now. Maybe, hopefully, in the future that would change. But for now I was done worrying about it as I danced the night away.

 

My mouth started to get a little dry and I felt my buzz starting to wear down, so I made my way to the outside bar, which was far enough removed from the dance floor that I could hear what people said, and sat down at an empty stool. “What’ll ya have?”

 

“Jack and coke,” I replied as I held out my hand so he could see my wristband that showed that I’d already been carded at the door and was over 21. This club accepted anyone over 18, but if they weren’t 21 they would get a black “x” on their hand as a warning to the bartenders to not serve them alcohol. He nodded and got to mixing as I pulled out my thin wallet from the top of my dress, handing over the card as he set the drink in front of me. I took a sip as I relaxed, the cool air helping revive me from the stuffy feeling that I’d felt while in the middle of a crowded dance floor.

 

While I sat there, savouring my drink, I felt my phone vibrate. Odd, there wasn’t too many people that texted me out of the blue aside from the people I was at the club with, and I didn’t know why they would text me from the dance floor, but regardless I pulled out my phone from the other side of my dress and tapped on the new message, blinking my eyes a few times so they could focus on the letters on the screen. When they did, and I read the message, it almost felt like everything around me disappeared. I couldn’t make out the chatter of the various patrons or even the pounding music as I read those words.

 

_Poughkeepsie. Stop what you’re doing and listen to me. You don’t belong there, Emmeline, that isn’t your life. My name is Dean, and my brother Sam and a friend of ours is helping us with this. You’ve been hit with a stasis hex and have been in a coma of some kind for about three months now, and our friend thinks they’ve finally found a way to contact you. She thinks you should still be in touch with your memories of us, of the Impala and the family business, that’s why I hope you listen to what I’m saying and trust me. Please, just hear me out. Sam can’t live without you, and neither can I. The bunker’s too quiet with you gone and Sam’s puppy dog eyes get sadder every day. I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault, but I’m trying to make it right. Just please reply if you get this, let me know I’m getting through to you._

 

I stared at the message for what felt like forever, but what was probably only several minutes. After I was done reading and re-reading it, I locked the screen and tucked it back in my dress, taking a big gulp of my drink. Was someone fucking with me? Why would somebody pull a prank like this? It didn’t make any sense, what was the payoff? The more I drank, the more everything started to come back into focus, and I heard familiar voices by my side. “So _this_ is where you got off to!” Kendra exclaimed, plopping down beside me.

 

I smiled. “Just needed a drink.”

 

“Well so do I,” she said as she put in her order and pulled out her own card.

 

The other two girls joined us soon enough, and we sat at the bar laughing and drinking, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that the text had given me. The weird shock had shot through me like an icicle, and now it sat low in my gut, coiling in a tight ball of ice that continued to send chills through me. I tried to keep up with our conversation, but I kept finding myself drifting more and more until Ashley snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hello, earth to Emmeline, are you getting any reception?” I jumped and tried to play it off with a laugh, but she knew something was up. “What’s wrong? What’s bothering you?”

 

“Nothing, I just …” That ball in my stomach twisted and pinched, causing me almost physical discomfort. It wasn’t nothing, but how did I explain receiving a text from _Dean Winchester_? If he even was who he said he was. I was still pretty convinced that it was a prank of some kind, but if that was the case then why couldn’t I shake this feeling? “You know what, I think I’m gonna go home.”

 

“What? But it’s only 11! Do you feel sick?”

 

I shook my head, downing the rest of my drink before I replied, “No, I just … I don’t feel right. I think I need to go home and lie down.” Maybe it was the Chinese takeout that was fucking with me, combined with the shots of tequila and the whiskey in my drink, but I just knew if I could go home and lie down and rest that I would wake up tomorrow and everything would be fine.

 

“Okay, well, text me when you get home so I know you made it, and be careful. Don’t want you becoming another Dateline NBC special.”

 

I chuckled. “I’ll be careful, I always am.”

 

“Thatta girl,” she said as she hugged me. I hugged the rest of them in turn before heading back through the club, pulling up the Uber app and ordering a ride, which I figured would probably be quicker to get to me than a regular cab. And indeed it was, as there was a driver just down the street who was not only willing to pick me up, but also willing to run me through the Taco Bell drive through for a couple of seven-layer burritos. I threw in a few tacos for him, too, and he thanked me as he dropped me off at my apartment.

 

Once inside, I texted Ashley to let her know I was home and then dug into the burritos, moaning out loud at how _good_ they were. I swore they put crack in these things, and the hot sauce only made it better as I poured it inside a little bit at a time and took a bite. When I was finished and had thrown away the bag, I sat back down on my couch, not ready to go to bed just yet. Now that I had sobered up some between the open window in the Uber car and the food, I pulled out my phone and pulled up my messages again, selected the weird-ass message I’d gotten earlier. It still creeped me right the fuck out, but instead of looking at the message itself, I took notice of the number. I expected it to be an Ohio number, since I lived in Ohio, but it didn’t have any area code that I was familiar with. I looked it up via Google and just stared at the result for a minute.

 

Lawrence, Kansas.

 

_Really? Really??_ I rolled my eyes and sighed, things just not adding up. I didn’t know anyone in Kansas, and I didn’t know anyone who would buy a burner phone and link it with a Kansas phone number just to prank someone. Even though my close circle of friends knew of my obsession, and also liked to play pranks sometimes, I knew them and I knew they wouldn’t go to these lengths just to pull one over on me. It was also far too specific to be a coincidence that somebody was just fucking around with a random person. I mean, they’d used my own name, which wasn’t exactly the most common name out there, that meant they had to know me, right? But if it was nobody that I would know who would go to the trouble of pulling off something like this, that really only left one option …

 

But, in a way, it did kind of make sense. I mean, not overall, but the fact that if this really _was_ Dean Winchester trying to get through to somebody he knew, it made sense that he would use an area code out of Lawrence and give out the code word _Poughkeepsie._ I stared at the screen, unsure of what to say. What did one say to this? How did one respond when dealing with … the supernatural? In both the literal and figurative sense. I sighed deeply before I typed out the only reply I could think of.

 

_Dean?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would have the next chapter up "within the next couple of days" as I wasn't sure if I would get a solid block of time to write this out, but I pounded it out pretty quickly today, so here ya go.

I waited anxiously for a reply, tapping the heel of my shoe against the carpet. I still hadn’t slung off my high heels, but they hadn’t been bothering me. Probably because I hadn’t spent the whole night dancing as I normally did. It was only a couple of minutes until I got a reply, but those couple of minutes felt like an eternity, and in that eternity, thoughts rushed through my head almost quicker than I could focus on them. What if he didn’t get my response? What if he got it but was cut off from responding? What if this really was some elaborate hoax that my still-drunk mind just wasn’t comprehending yet? If he had only texted me the night before, when I was still of sound mind, I might be able to process this … but what if I wasn’t of sound mind? What if I was just fucking crazy and having some sort of psychotic break? I thought the general rule was that if you didn’t think you were crazy then you were and if you thought you were crazy you were fine, but what if that was just what someone else wanted me to think?

 

Ugh, I was going in circles and getting nowhere fast. In time, I did receive another message, a simple one.

 

_Yes, it’s me. You’re getting my messages, then?_

 

I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as I went to reply, my hands shaking slightly as I did. _I am, I guess. Are you really Dean Winchester?_

 

I sat the phone on my lap and clasped my hands together to try to get them to stop shaking. If this was indeed real, it wouldn’t do to not be able to respond in a coherent manner. As I stared at the screen, I didn’t know what it was that I hoped for, regarding the texts. If they weren’t real, then either someone was obviously well invested in pulling a fast one on me far beyond what I thought they would, or I was just going off. But if it was true … that would mean that whatever I was experiencing now wasn’t real. The club, my friends. I wondered how much of my life that I could recall was real, if there was a point where it became truth or if the whole thing was a lie. The possibility that nothing I knew was real made the blood in my veins turn to ice. Was I really ready to accept that? I wasn’t even sure.

 

The phone vibrated in my lap, making me jump in surprise. I unlocked my phone, which had gone dark waiting for a response, and opened the message.

 

_In the flesh. Look, I know this is probably a lot, I’m not really sure what you’re experiencing while in stasis like this, but please trust me that whatever you think you’re living right now, it’s not real._

 

There was a pause before I got another message.

 

_We have a plan to get you out of this, but we’re gonna need a little help from you._

 

My eyebrows furrowed, wondering where this was going. I already felt the hesitation rising in me, but I replied to the message anyway. _What is that?_ Truth be told, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to know, but I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

 

_I need you to give Cas permission to possess you._

 

Okay, this was getting too weird. I stuffed my phone back in my dress and grabbed my leather jacket, feeling suffocated. I needed some air.

 

I didn’t plan on going far, since it was the middle of the night and all, but I flipped the switch for my porch light and stepped out onto my patio, resting my arm and head against the wrought iron of the stairs leading to the patio of the upstairs neighbors. The metal felt cold against my skin as I worked to slowly breathe in and out. Despite what the texts said, this _felt_ real. The cold hardness that I rested against momentarily felt as real as anything. But, if this wasn’t real, how did I know what real was? I looked over to the main road that I lived off of, cars coming and going even at this time of night. It wasn’t the big city, exactly, but it had the benefits of certain amenities that a bigger city had. Cuyahoga Falls and Stow sprawled together on top of Akron, mixing with other little townships and cities south of Cleveland. The energy wasn’t as high as the bigger city, much more laid back and reminiscent of the smaller town it used to be. Looking out onto the world made me feel a little more at peace, my breathing slowing back down to normal as a slight wind stirred my hair.

 

I felt my phone vibrate again, and I pulled it out to read the message, realizing that I’d left the conversation hanging.

 

_Are you still there?_

 

My heel clacked as I tapped it against the cement, wondering what to even say before I finally typed out, _You know how crazy this sounds, right?_ His reply was pretty much what I expected it to be.

 

_I know it does, I just need you to trust me, please._

 

I laughed out loud, chuckling softly in the darkness of the night. Of course he would want me to just trust him, isn’t that what a prankster or an illusion would say? _Just trust me_? How the fuck was I supposed to trust this person, that he really was who he said he was, that this was really happening. Fuck, this was just … this was just too much. I hurriedly typed out a reply. _How can I trust you? I don’t know you._

 

The next message was a little longer in coming, and I wondered if I’d scared him off. If it was just a prankster, I hoped they would just leave me the hell alone and stop fucking with me. Maybe it was because I was still a little tipsy, but this whole affair was starting to make me feel a little ill, though I wasn’t sure why. There was just this sinking, anxious feel in the pit of my stomach that refused to go away. However, if this wasn’t just a prankster, or some figment of my imagination … the guilt started to overtake me for the way I responded. But _why_ did I feel so guilty? Dean Winchester wasn’t real … was he? _Was he_? My phone vibrated in my hands and I immediately opened the messaged to read.

 

_I know you probably don’t remember right now, but you do. You’re like a sister to me, you’re a part of our family. You’ve hunted with us, broke bread with us, lived with us through good times and bad. You’ve been there for Sam in ways that I can’t. And we’ve been tearing through lore books for the past three months trying to find some way to break you out of this. We even recruited Rowena to help us, we were that desperate. Now, I know this is a lot, but I need you to go out on a limb for me, please. From what we’ve found, since the original witch died, Cas is the only one that has the power to break you out, but he has to do it from the inside._

 

I felt tears inexplicably well up in the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away as I pursed my lips, trying to sort through the tangle of complicated emotions that I seemed to be suddenly stuck in. I desperately wanted this person to just go away and leave me alone to live my life, but there was an inexplicable feeling of longing … of familiarity. Something in me wanted to believe this, wanted to trust him, wanted to say _yes_ , but I just couldn’t bring myself to type out the words. I glanced down as my phone vibrated again and saw he’d sent me another message.

 

_Look at it this way, if this isn’t real, then what’s the harm in saying yes? Nothing will happen, then, right? So, no harm no foul._

 

He got me there. Of course, I could just be feeding into a delusion, but the longer I talked to him the more I got the impression that that wasn’t the case. Which, if it was a hallucination, I suppose it would seem pretty damn real. But then again, where I was right now was supposed to be an illusion and it seemed as real as real could get. Maybe, if something seemed a bit _unreal_ , that meant it was real … or something. Fuck, this was getting confusing. But, at the end of the day, he was right. And if anything this would be the test to prove whether or not this was real. If nothing happened, I could put this weirdness behind me and go on about my life, as boring as that was. But if something _did_ happen …

 

I didn’t allow myself to think about it much further as I typed, _Alright, fine, I give him permission_.

 

I expected something to happen right away, if it was going to happen, but everything seemed normal. I looked back towards the road to see cars still coming and going, but as they did, I noticed something a little … off. The headlights seemed dimmer and dimmer, even the streetlights seemed to give off a softer and softer glow. It seemed like things were starting to get swallowed by an encroaching darkness and I felt like I could barely breathe when I heard a rough, gravely voice behind me. “Hello, Emmeline.”

 

I froze, a chill running up my spine. The lights in front of me dimmed completely and it wasn’t until they finally went out that I slowly turned to see the familiar, trench coat wearing angel. _No, this … this_ is _real?_ My whole body trembled, though whether it was from the circumstances or the cold, I wasn’t sure. “You,” I croaked out. “You’re … you’re real.”

 

His head tilted ever so slightly as his eyes squinted at me. “Of course I’m real.”

 

I looked down at my phone, which was suddenly dead. “Then this … this conversation, it was all really real?”

 

He didn’t get a chance to answer before my porch light went out and I instinctively shrieked. As soon as the scream left my mouth, however, I felt myself surrounded. Not by people, by something soft and … feathery. _Wings_.

 

I realized that Cas himself had moved, from a few feet away to directly in front of me. I felt arms around me as his dark wings encased us, protecting us, though I wasn’t sure what from. Probably nothing, but it was the gesture itself that was comforting, and I figured that’s probably why he did it. “It’s alright, nothing will harm you,” he promised as he gripped me tight for a moment. Beyond his wings I saw a soft glow, and he slowly lowered them and released me. As the angel took a step back, I saw the source of the light, as it was coming from behind a door, a door that didn’t look like the one that led back to my apartment. It was old and wooden and light shone through the cracks and around the edges.

 

“W-What’s that?” I asked.

 

“That,” he replied, “is the door back to consciousness for you.”

 

“Consciousness? I thought you were supposed to wake me up?”

 

“I have. Your body is fully conscious right now.”

 

My mind blanked before the realization hit me as I turned to him. “Wait, you’re driving my body right now?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Why?”

 

He paused for a moment before he responded. “When I possessed you, I could have shoved you through that door and forced you awake. I did not because I didn’t know what kind of shock that would be for you. I wanted to give you time to adjust and accept what was happening, since your communication indicated you were less than fully accepting of the situation.”

 

I looked from him back to the door, licking my lips as the gears started clicking together in my head. “So, if I open that door, then … then I wake up?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Where will I wake up?”

 

“In the bunker, in a room next to Sam’s.”

 

“And … Sam and Dean … they’re there?”

 

“Yes, along with Rowena and my vessel.”

 

My eyes stared, fixed on the door. My whole world, everything I’d known had just disappeared, and now all that I was left with laid beyond it. I felt frozen in place, on the cusp of something brand new and yet old and anxiety swept over me. What truly lay in wait for me? What had my life been like? The life of hunters in Supernatural seemed pretty cool sometimes, but when you really sat down and thought about it, it sucked. Always on the road, going from place to place, interacting with douchebags, depending on diners for food and credit card fraud for income, if a particular hunter was even smart enough to do something like that. If not … they were shit outta luck, then. And the Winchesters also had a veritable library of rare lore they could access when researching, most hunters didn’t have that kind of insight. It was a rough, unforgiving life that didn’t hold much thanks for those who lived it.

 

I drew in a shaky breath as I whispered, “Cas, I’m scared.”

 

Fingers encircled my hand and squeezed, holding on. “Don’t be. I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

 

I looked back up at the angel, who still towered over me despite my four inch heels. I’m sure I looked wild-eyed and scared, like a frightened deer, but he squeezed my hand again reassuringly. “Promise?”

 

“I promise.”

 

Well, that was that, then. I looked back at the door, having no reason to stall this any longer. I still felt the thread of anxiety weaving around me, threatening to close in on me and turn me over to panic, but Castiel’s presence beside me helped to partially banish the fear so I at least wasn’t paralyzed by it. I gulped, feel wholly overwhelmed, but feeling something in my gut telling me to open the door. My limbs felt like weights as I slowly took the several steps that separated me from it, Cas following beside me the whole way, wordlessly waiting for me to do this. I paused in front of it, my hand reluctant to move and grasp the handle, but I looked down and saw that I’d somehow already done so. I took a deep breath to steel myself, looking at the angel one last time for confidence before I pushed open the door and the light surrounded me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhangers I left y'all with the last couple of chapters, I hope this makes up for it a little. :)

The white light that I stepped into initially blinded me, but within a few blinks it started retreating until the only light in the room was the overhead light that sufficiently illuminated everything. I felt like I was struggling to breathe for a second, but I think it was just the panic, the finality of it. This was it, I had done it. I was now firmly in Supernatural with no way back. But, then again, none of that had been true in the first place. I lived here, I belonged here, according to Dean I hunted here.

 

Then why couldn’t I remember?

 

I felt someone squeeze my left hand and I looked over to see Cas, at my left side yet again, like he’d never left. Just as he promised. I squeezed back as I went to sit up, looking down to see that I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt under a flannel and a pair of jeans. I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised that I wasn’t wearing the tight dress that I’d last remembered, but shit was I getting fashion tips from Dean Winchester or something?

 

All of a sudden, I was surrounded by more flannel as I was encased in a hug. At first I thought it was two different people but I realized it was just one … Sam. I guess because he was a huge moose of a man it seemed like more than one person had their arms around me. I tentatively hugged back, feeling slightly awkward because while I knew who this was, I didn’t _know him_ know him.

 

He didn’t seem to notice it at first as he said, “I’m so glad you’re back, Em.”

 

I cleared my throat a little as I replied. “Uh, yeah. Good to be back, I guess …”

 

His body tensed slightly, like an alarm was going off in his head and he pulled back to look at me, cupping my cheek and looking in my eyes like he was looking for something. “Something’s wrong.”

 

“What?” I heard from my right and I flicked my eyes over to see Dean, who had been sitting in a chair but upon hearing Sam’s declaration of a problem he moved to stand up.

 

I shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, licking my lips before I replied, “You said I had a life here, right?”

 

“Of course,” Dean replied.

 

I turned to look at him as I asked, “You weren’t lying to me, were you?”

 

“What? Of course not!” he exclaimed, his hands open and palms out, conveying honesty.

 

“Then why can’t I remember?”

 

Silence met my question, broken only by a heavily accented voice saying, “Oh dear, I had a feeling that might happen …”

 

I whipped around to see a familiar red-haired witch in a long black dress standing in the corner. Dean was the one who immediately demanded answers. “What do you mean you had a feeling this might happen? What did you do?”

 

Rowena raised her hands. “I didn’t do anything, I swear! It’s an … unfortunate side effect of the curse. I was hoping that the angel’s grace would have taken care of it, but … obviously not.”

 

Dean looked pissed as he carefully weighed his next words. “What are you talking about?”

 

Rowena looked ready for an explanation, at least, and everyone listened intently as she proceeded. “You see, the way stasis affects the mind is it puts someone in another reality, similar to a djinn. Except, unlike with a djinn, the world isn’t based on anything real, it’s isn’t supposed to be a perfect version of a perfect life, it’s just a normal life … normal enough that nobody would question it and try to break out of it. To do that, the person’s true memories are locked away so that they won’t interfere. When a person is brought out by the witch that put the spell on, they need to unlock those memories first. Since she was woken with angel grace … it seems those memories remain locked.” She looked at me, looking genuinely sorry, if it was possible for Rowena to experience a genuine emotion. “I’m sorry, dear.”

 

Everyone was quiet for a moment until Sam spoke up, “Is there no way to unlock her memory?”

 

“Well …” Rowena paused, chewing her lip as she thought. “There _might_ be a way, but …”

 

“But what?” Dean asked flatly, used to her shenanigans.

 

“But it’s not going to work immediately. It’ll come back slowly, over time.”

 

“How long?” Sam asked.

 

“Hard to say, it’s different for everyone. Could be days, weeks … years.”

 

_Fuck_ , I thought as I slouched on the bed. I’d jumped out of the frying pan and directly into the fire, it seemed, back to reality but with no memory of that reality. And in a world like this, that could prove to be dangerous, especially if I was associated with the Winchesters. I was probably marked for death with several different supernatural beings or entities, up to and including Lucifer himself.

 

Sam turned back to me, those puppy dog eyes in full effect. “Isn’t there any other way?”

 

“‘Fraid not, dearie. It’s slow memories or no memories, which would you like?”

 

Dean sighed as he said, “Fine. Just do it, then.”

 

“Alrighty,” Rowena replied, heading for the door before she turned and said, “I could use some help brewing the potion. Dean? Cas?”

 

They paused for a moment but followed after her as she asked. I supposed they figured it was best to not leave Rowena unsupervised, but I realized that also left me alone in the room with Sam. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but when she made sure to close the door behind her, winking at me before she did so, I knew she’d meant to do it, though I wasn’t sure why.

 

When everyone else had left, Sam turned to me and asked, “So you don’t remember anything?”

 

“Not really. I mean, I know some basic stuff, but … nothing specific. Like, I know of you and your brother and Cas and a few other people. I remember some lore from some cases you guys worked. Um …”

 

I paused, thinking, but I didn’t get a chance to continue as Sam asked, “You don’t remember us, then?”

 

My brow furrowed. “Us?”

 

“Yeah, us,” he said as he gestured between us. “Me and you?”

 

“What about me and you?” I asked, still clueless.

 

He got that adorable look on his face that he usually got when he was trying to gently break some news to someone. “That we’re together? As in, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

 

“Oh.” I could feel my face redden as I scratched the back of my neck, cringing. “Well, this is awkward.”

 

Sam chuckled as he commented, “A little bit, yeah.”

 

“So …” I started, playing with the hem of my flannel shirt for the distraction, “What do we do, then?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean …” Shit, there wasn’t really a good way to word this. “Did you wanna break up, or …”

 

Calloused fingers lifted me chin so I could look him in the face and see the earnestness there. My heart ached as he said, “This doesn’t change anything for me. I’ll be right beside you all the way. And even if you never remember … I’ll still be here for you.”

 

I had to bite my lip to get control of myself before I started crying. “Thank you,” I whispered.

 

He smiled and I swore even though I was still sitting my knees felt weak. “You don’t have to thank me.”

 

It was this moment that I knew that, normally, we probably should have kissed or something, but neither of us made a move and so we just sat there awkwardly. Thankfully, we didn’t have to sit there long, as Rowena returned with a potion in hand, Dean and Cas trailing behind her. She paid no never mind to the awkward air in the room, or if she did notice it she didn’t say anything as she offered me the goblet. I took it somewhat warily, the contents not exactly smelling very appetizing. “Drink it all up at once,” she instructed. “I know it doesn’t smell good,” she added as she saw the face I made when I sniffed it. “But unless you want to start over fresh, I suggest you drink it.”

 

She had a point, but that didn’t mean I had to enjoy it. I scrunched up my nose, took a deep breath, then pinched my nose as I lifted the goblet to my mouth and started chugging. The texture immediately made me want to vomit, but I ignored the instinct and kept at it until it was empty. Once I was done, I paused, trying desperately not to throw it all up. I was ultimately able to keep it down, but I did end up with one nasty-ass burp. “Fuck, that’s nasty,” I commented as I wiped my tongue with my sleeve, trying my best to rid my mouth of the taste.

 

“Sorry,” Rowena said, though somehow I doubted it was actually genuine.

 

“So, how do you feel?” Dean asked as he took the goblet from me.

 

“Fine, I guess,” I shrugged.

 

“Well good. Fine is good,” he commented before he directed his next statement at Rowena, “If that’s all, then I think we’re good, here.”

 

“Kicking me out, are you?”

 

“You’ve been helpful, and I thank you, and we owe you one, but that doesn’t mean I want you hanging around here.”

 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, I know when I’ve worn out my welcome.” She winked at me briefly and said, “Be seeing you around, dear.”

 

“Not anytime soon,” Dean added as she flounced gracefully out of the room.

 

Cas sighed and mumbled, “I’ll escort her out.”

 

Silence enveloped the room once more once the angel left, and I felt a bit uncomfortable as I knew they were both staring at me. I wondered which of us would break the silence, and Dean was it as he cleared his throat and asked, “So, is it working, you think?”

 

I shrugged. “Well, nothing yet, but she did say it would come back slowly.” I fumbled with the hem of my flannel again. “Sorry.”

 

“No, don’t be,” he replied as he leaned over and pulled me in for a hug, planting a kiss on my forehead. “We’re gonna get through this, okay?” I nodded and he patted my shoulder before he stood back up and addressed both of us. “Tell ya what, it’s been a pretty stressful past few months, we’re going out for a nice dinner tonight and so help me god we’re all going to relax. So, shower, shave, what the fuck ever because we’re going somewhere where you can throw peanut shells on the floor.”

 

When Dean left, Sam turned to me and said, “Word of advice, I’d grab a shower before Dean and Cas do. They usually shower together and, well, they don’t always stick to washing if you know what I mean …”

 

My cheeks reddened as I nodded. “Gotcha. So, I live here, I’m guessing? Where’s my room?”

 

It was Sam’s turn to blush as he said, “We share one together.”

 

“Ah,” I replied, feeling awkward as fuck yet again. I pushed past it and stood up. “Well, lead the way, then. I’m going to need some clothes once I finish showering.”

 

“Right,” he replied as he stood, himself, and lead me out of the room. Cas wasn’t fudging it when he said the room I’d been in had been right next to Sam’s, as we walked out, turned left, and his - our - room was right there. He showed me which drawers were mine and the delineation that separated our clothes in the closet. He then grabbed up a couple of towels for us along with our shower supplies and showed me the way to the bathroom, which was just down the hall. It was set up dorm-style, with several separate shower stalls with the textured glass doors set against one wall and several accompanying toilet stalls against the other wall, with a row of sinks between them. I chose a stall on the end and stepped in, stripping and throwing my clothes out of the stall before I turned on the water. Thankfully, the water heated up pretty quickly, so I wasn’t left standing in a cold stream for long.

 

Lemme tell ya, when the boys raved about the water pressure, they weren’t kidding. It was like heaven beating down on my body as I leaned into the stream, wetting my hair. It was at least the same length and style as I remembered, so washing it didn’t take long, but I spent endless minutes under the water as I let it massage me, slowly washing my body from head to toe. It wasn’t like I stunk or anything, which was strange since I’d apparently been under for the past three months, but I supposed that was included in the “stasis” part of the stasis hex. A nice shower always felt great, though, that’s why I didn’t protest when it had been suggested.

 

As I faced the water once I was done washing, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at everything that was happening. In the blink of an eye, my whole life had changed. Well, what I’d thought was my life. It may have been fake but it was all I knew. Coming here … wasn’t exactly what I’d call a mistake, but it was something that I’d wished I had more of a chance to come to terms with. Of course, this was a rather big fucking thing to come to terms with, realizing that your life was a lie and you were really a hunter in league with the infamous Winchesters. I rested my forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall, closing my eyes as I focused on my breathing. In and out, slow breaths so that I wouldn’t panic. The worst thing I could do in this world was panic. Panic in general lead to making stupid mistakes and taking stupid risks, and in this world it could be a whole helluva lot deadlier for a Winchester associate than it could for normal people.

 

I jumped when someone knocked on the shower door, and I heard Sam’s voice on the other side. “You okay in there?”

 

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Almost done.” I ran my head back under the water and squeezed the excess out of my hair before I turned the faucets off. I opened the door ever so slightly so that I could grab my towel and dry off while still in the stall. I hadn’t had the foresight to actually bring some clothes with me. Whoops. I mean, if I knew myself the way I thought I did, Sam and I would have consummated our relationship a long time ago. Still, I didn’t actually _remember_ that and as a result I felt a bit too awkward to show off the birthday suit to anyone else.

 

Wrapping the big, fluffy towel around me, I gingerly stepped out and gathered the clothing I’d shed earlier, holding on to them as I walked past Sam, who was trimming up his beard in the mirror, and made my way back to the room. I didn’t feel right just referring to it as “his” room, but it felt a bit awkward to refer to it as “our” room, so in my mind I just went with “the” room. Nice and neutral.

 

I wasn’t sure how long Sam was going to spend in the bathroom, so I hurried to find something to wear. After I located appropriate underwear, I pulled on a white tank and black leggings I figured would go well with a pair of motorcycle-style black leather boots that were stashed in the closet. As I pulled on some socks, I realized I had no idea what time of year it was and what would actually be appropriate to wear for the weather. Maybe I’d been wearing layers for a reason and not just as an aesthetic choice. I sighed as I flipped through the clothes in the closet, seeing if anything spoke to me as far as layers went. I eventually settled on pairing a grey scarf with a soft red, white, and grey flannel. I hung the scarf rather loosely around my neck as I pulled on the flannel, rolling up the sleeves to my elbow. I wondered if I would need a jacket as well when Sam walked in, towel still wrapped around his waist. “Oh, sorry, I’ll step out for a minute.”

 

“It’s okay,” he said with a grin. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

 

“Yeah, but, I don’t _remember_ seeing it.”

 

I was afraid that statement might sting a little, but he only grinned wider. “Well, you don’t often get a second chance at first impressions, and the healthy eating has been paying off.”

 

I chuckled, but still averted my gaze when he dropped the towel and went to reach for a pair of boxers in the dresser. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sneak a peak at his naked ass, but I otherwise focused on the closet in front of me, trying to find a jacket. I had plenty of sweatshirts and flannels and long sleeved shirts to last several lifetimes, but aside from a heavy winter Columbia jacket, the only other jacket was a dark brown field jacket, almost similar to the ones Sam and Dean wore, just dark brown as opposed to their olive coloured ones. I figured it would do as I pulled it out and set it on the bed before I pulled the boots out of the closet floor and sat down to put them on.

 

While I’d been searching for a jacket, Sam had already pulled on a pair of jeans and a white cotton shirt along with a pair of socks. Once I’d moved from the closet, he ducked in to grab a blue and white flannel shirt and his jacket, slinging the jacket onto the bed on top of mine as he pulled on and buttoned up the flannel. After he pulled on his shoes, we grabbed our jackets and trekked back toward the entrance of the bunker to wait for Dean and Cas. Because of Sam’s earlier comment about their showers, I thought that we’d be waiting for a while, but it was only maybe ten minutes that we sat there before they came walking toward us, Dean motioning us to follow him as he lead the whole group to the garage.

 

The drive was a fairly pleasant half an hour, filled with classic rock songs and slightly off-key singing. It was thrilling to ride in baby, even though I knew it wasn’t my actual first time doing it. The seating arrangement was not quite how I remembered it, though … Cas sat up front with Dean, and Sam sat in the back with me. Between the songs and the laughter, I was starting to feel a little less awkward around him, comfortable even. This was going to take a helluva lot of adjusting, but so far it seemed worth it.

 

It was a little later on in the evening, but we didn’t have trouble getting seated at Texas Roadhouse. Dean immediately grabbed some peanuts and started munching on the way, tossing the shells onto the floor as tradition dictated. The waitress didn’t even have to wait for us to order as Dean ordered steaks for all of us, even at Sam’s protest. “Hey, now, we’re here to celebrate and relax. You can get back to your rabbit food tomorrow.” Sam didn’t have anything else to say as he shifted in the booth next to me. Dean popped a few more peanuts in his mouth before he said, “So, Em, got any questions?”

 

I was a little surprised at the inquiry and jumped as I almost shot the peanut out of its shell and across the room. “Questions? Like what?”

 

“Well, I mean, until you remember, is there anything you’d like to know in the meantime?”

 

I popped a peanut in my mouth and chewed, thinking for a moment before I asked, “How did we all meet?”

 

“Mmm, good one. Sam, you wanna screen it?”

 

“Sure. Uh, well, Eileen was the first one who met you, when she was hunting down a case outside of Calgary. She spent some time up in Canada with you and then you came back down here with her. We worked some cases together and … you kind of just never left.”

 

_Eileen._ I did remember Eileen Leahy, the deaf hunter that the boys had run into a couple of times. I’d always thought there was some chemistry between Sam and Eileen, but perhaps I’d been wrong. Or perhaps the show that I remembered watching portrayed things different than how it really was. Either way, if she was anything like how I remembered, I would have enjoyed hanging out with her. She seemed pretty down to earth and cool. The only part of the explanation that I didn’t quite get, though … “Why was I in Calgary?”

 

“Well, that’s where you’re from,” Sam replied.

 

I paused for a moment, letting it sink in. “Wait, I’m Canadian?”

 

Dean burst out laughing at my response as Sam chuckled. Even Cas smirked quietly as he sat next to Dean. For the rest of the meal, they regaled me with stories, some simply their own, some involving me as well. I simply sat there, absorbing everything that I could. It was endlessly fascinating, but ultimately none of it rang a bell or kickstarted anything. It was just like hearing stories of someone else … someone else who just so happened to actually be me. It was very strange, but in this world, strange was the norm, so I had to just go with it. At least I wouldn’t be going it alone, it seemed.

 

Later that evening, after Dean and Cas had gone to bed, Sam and I agreed that we were both too tired to make up another bed for one of us and since the bed was more than big enough we would share. I pulled on a pair of capri leggings and a loose purple shirt before I climbed in, Sam taking longer as he went to the bathroom one last time. I settled down and pulled the blankets around my waist, feeling physically tired but my mind still not wanting to quiet down for the night. As Sam re-entered the room, he dimmed the lights and made to climb in on the other side. A question still nagged me in the back of my mind, and as he went to settle in, I blurted it out. “Sam, what if I never remember? What if it never comes back?”

 

Gentle fingers stroked my cheek as he said, “Don’t worry, the potion will work, even if it takes a while. And if it does …” I could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “Well, you’ll still have me.”

 

I smiled in the darkness. “Thanks, Sam,” I whispered as I closed my eyes.

 

Between my full stomach and the events of the day, I was exhausted and despite my active mind I quickly started to drift into slumber. Just as I was on the edge of consciousness, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, I heard Sam whisper, “I love you.” The words made my heart beat almost painfully until sleep overtook me, a dreamless rest that saw me through the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, and with this update, I am officially all caught up on updating my fics! For those of you who read several of my WIP fics, I'm sure you're happy now LOL.

Over the next week, the boys actually took some time off, needing a respite from the stress-filled few months that had preceded it. During that time, they tried everything they could to induce memories in me, telling me stories, exposing me to smells and food and artifacts (the safe ones, at least) but nothing seemed to ring a bell. Dean’s burgers were delicious and Sam’s strawberry shortcake was amazing, but I couldn’t remember eating it for my last birthday, as they said I had. The demon blade that Sam showed me was incredible in its intricacies and the way I swore it _vibrated_ ever so slightly in my hand was mind-blowing, but I couldn’t ever remember wielding it as Sam said I had. Even Cas’ angel blade, which the boys said I’d grabbed once to gank a threatening angel when Cas himself had dropped it was no more familiar to me than a TV prop. After days with no progress, I was getting increasingly frustrated, and I think they were, too, though they did their best not to show it.

 

I never moved out of Sam’s room. I had thought I would, but after spending the night with him, I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and security and I just couldn’t give it up. I used the excuse that maybe spending as much time with him as possible would trigger something, which he accepted, but with no memories forthcoming, the tension was starting to grow. I felt like I was starting to panic, desperately wanting to remember something, _anything_. I wanted to be back to normal, even if that normal was the fucked up life of a hunter. I wanted the boys to relax, as even though they weren’t working a job, trying to help me out was starting to wear on them, and I was getting pissed at myself for doing that to them. Why couldn’t my stupid brain just work?

 

After about a week and a half, Dean declared that he’d found a case out in Three Rivers, Michigan. Nothing too heavy, just a small vampire den, nothing they couldn’t handle. I, of course, was not going with them, as they couldn’t risk my safety in the middle of a hunt. If my memory had come back, of course I would be along for the ride. But without my hunting knowledge intact, I was a liability, a risk they couldn’t take, and so I would be staying behind at the bunker. That was all fine and good for me, I figured we could probably use some time apart to decompress from the issue of trying to get my memories to come back.

 

It was a little over fifteen hour drive to get to their destination, so they made their preparations and were going to leave in the middle of the night, drive all night to take advantage of the low traffic, and get there the next afternoon. They would have left earlier, but Dean had to make a supply run while Sam packed up, and by the time they finished it was already getting late and they needed at least a few hours of sleep before getting on the road.

 

They had gone to bed early, of course, and while I had joined Sam in bed, he was asleep way before I was. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him in the dim light, my heart aching and tight in my chest at the thought of him being so far away. Even though I didn’t actually remember him, I still felt calm and safe around him. Echoes of memories, maybe? Nothing specific, but maybe the feelings were starting to leak through … or maybe I was just antsy about the prospect of spending the next few days in the bunker all alone, without anybody to keep me company. I had decided to read some lore books to at least get me up to speed, if it wouldn’t trigger any memories, and that would hopefully keep me busy the whole time. But still, I would have to retire to an empty bed, and that was not something I thought I was quite ready to face. But face it I was going to have to.

 

I stayed up as late as I could, just looking at him, absorbing his every feature like I was never going to see him again. I knew Dean and Cas would take care of him, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t worry. I wasn’t sure exactly when I fell asleep, but I heard the door creak open as Dean came in to shake Sam awake. Sam groggily got up, yawning as he pulled on some clothes and laced up his boots. I hadn’t moved when he got up, content to let him think I was still asleep as he got ready to leave. I just didn’t want there to be any awkward goodbyes and I didn’t trust myself to not be weird. I heard his boots scrap ever so slightly on the floor as he started for the door, but he paused for a moment and I wondered what he was doing. Had he forgotten something? I worked to keep my breathing level and deep, simulating sleep still, which was quite the task as I heard his footsteps draw close to my side of the bed.

 

For a split second I felt the tickle of his hair as he bent down before the soft touch of his lips as he kissed my temple. It was soft and brief but it sent my heart pounding as I heard him whisper in the darkness, “I love you, Em. Always.”

 

And with that he was gone.

 

The next morning, I woke up to a cold, empty bed, and my chest tightened just a little bit at seeing it. I got out of it as soon as I could, not wanting to lounge around in a place that was supposed to be so intimate. As I pulled on some sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, I took my phone off the charger to see I had a text from Sam.

 

_Stopping at Hannibal, MO for something to eat, about halfway there._

 

I smiled, glad that he had texted me to let me know what was going on. Even though I knew I was woefully unprepared to go on a hunt with them, I still had a feeling that I was missing out, hanging out with them on the road, eating local diner food, listening to classic rock as the miles sped by. He had only sent the text about ten minutes ago, so I texted him back, _Anything good?_

 

It wasn’t long before he sent a reply. _Diner pancakes. Always good._

 

I chuckled, realizing I was craving some pancakes myself, but I wasn’t about to go to all the effort to just make a few for myself. I _could_ take one of the cars into town and stop by a diner, myself … but Dean had told me to not leave the bunker under any circumstances, unless it was a dire emergency. I sighed as I figured that a pancake craving did not qualify as a “dire emergency”, so instead I pulled down a box of shredded wheat and crushed up a couple of cakes into a bowl. Feeling a little extra this morning, I added some of the macerated strawberries that were leftover from the strawberry shortcake. The maceration process left them super juicy and liquid-y, adding to the sugar I also added to the shredded wheat before pouring on some milk.

 

As I sat down at the table to eat, my phone buzzed again, signaling a new message. I opened it to read, _Don’t forget to eat. Dean made sure to leave plenty for you._

 

I took a picture of my bowl and sent it to him, texting, _Already on it. ;)_

 

It wasn’t but a few seconds before I got the reply, _Shoulda known you would have gone for the strawberries. :)_

 

I giggled as I sent, _Hey, don’t hate! These things are the bomb._

 

The next message I received was a picture of a stack of pancakes, surrounded by strawberries and topped with whipped cream. The text that accompanied it was simply, _I know_.

 

I rolled my eyes as I replied, _Ass._

 

I ate the rest of my breakfast in peace and quiet, noting it was about half past seven in the morning. It was hard to tell the time since there were no windows in the bunker, and truth be told I’d thought it was later when I’d gotten up. I didn’t know how the boys kept their sleep cycles on a proper course while they were here, but I figured they probably didn’t spend large amounts of time here, always going out to work cases, and that was probably enough to keep their nights and days straight.

 

In an effort to keep a schedule, I set a series of reminders for myself, to remember to eat and to wind down and go to bed. If I knew myself the way I thought I did, it would be very easy to slide into staying up all night and sleeping all day, and if I was ever going to get out of this damn bunker and go on a hunt, I couldn’t be groggy during the day trying to interview people. After breakfast, I headed into the library to pick out a lore book to study. I ran my fingers over the spines, some of the books looking downright ancient. I didn’t want to pick something too old and ruin it, so I picked up one of the many journals available and started reading. It read something like the journal of a Grimm brother, only very real and very frightening. It only dated back to about the 1940s, but the writing was immaculately intricate, so much so at some points I had to really work to see what was being said. At that point, an idea dawned on me: perhaps, for texts difficult to read, I should type them out so we could reference them easier. It seemed a bit of a daunting prospect at first, but the more I thought about it the more I was sold on it. At present time, I was of little to no use to the brothers. But this would make their reference work easier, would would make their lives just a little bit easier. If it took years for my memory to come back, the least I could do was contribute in any way that I could, and right now this was the best way I could think of.

 

So, I trudged back to the room to grab my laptop, setting up a little station on the long table so I could work. As my computer booted up, I grabbed the book I had been reading and then grabbed a couple of more books that looked like they were handwritten and got comfortable in a chair. I pulled up my preferred writing program, used a paperweight to keep the book open, and then took in a deep breath. “Alright, here goes nothing.” And thus I began my personal quest.

 

It was a good thing I had set those reminders for myself, because the morning just flew by while I diligently worked to transcribe the journal to a hard copy format on the computer. Before I knew it, the alarm I set for myself for lunch went off, and I realized that I was starting to get a little stiff. I figured I had earned a break, so I stood up and thoroughly stretched before I ambled into the kitchen to get something to eat. I checked the contents of the cabinets, the freezer, and the refrigerator before I decided to grab one of those ready-made salads in the fridge. Dean had obviously not bought them for himself, but I was glad he thought to grab them as I pulled out the Chinese chicken option off of the shelf. The only thing that could be considered remotely Chinese about it was the fried wonton strips included with the salad, but whatever. I mixed up all the ingredients in a large bowl and tossed it with the included dressing before digging in, preferring to stand near the table instead of sitting, since I knew I would be doing a helluva lot of that when I was done.

 

When I finished, I left the bowl in the sink along with my cereal bowl from earlier, vowing to wash dishes before I went to bed. I took a lap around the bunker, stretching my muscles before I sat down at the computer again. I had made some good progress - some passages were easier to transcribe than others - and if there were any illustrations I took a picture with my phone and uploaded to the computer, inserting it into the document to make the file complete. Once I was finished with this, I wanted it to be a complete resource. Perhaps I could even set up a Google Docs account and upload them so the boys could access them on the go. That was an idea to explore, but first I had to finish the transcription, so I kept at it.

 

About a quarter after five, my phone buzzed again, and I checked to see that Sam had sent a message.

 

_Made it here, in the hotel room right now. Going to do some research tonight and interviews tomorrow._

 

I smiled, feeling a little bittersweet sensation at not being with him, but I knew all too well what could happen if something went wrong, and I would have no clue what to do. I texted him back, _Sweet, thanks for letting me know. Let me know if you guys need any help._

 

I only waited a minute or so before I got a reply. _I think we’re good. Thanks, though._

 

I smiled, typing out, _Well I got a project of my own going anyway, but if you do happen to need a little help, don’t hesitate to text me. :)_

 

I swore he immediately texted me back. _Project?_

 

I chuckled. _Yeah. You’ll see. ;)_

 

He hit be back with,  _Fine, keep your secrets, then. ;)_

 

Since it was almost time for my dinner reminder to go off, I went ahead and ventured once more to the kitchen and fished a frozen chicken burrito out of the freezer, sticking it in the microwave to heat up. When it was done, I grabbed the plate and a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa and took my finds to the kitchen table, not wanting the food near the books for fear they would get accidentally ruined. I wasn’t about to be responsible for the destruction of priceless lore books via salsa. Nope, not me.

 

As I sat and ate, I pondered that the transcription was actually a good exercise for me, too, as I retained the information better by typing it out than I ever would by just reading it. Even if it took a long time for my memory to come back, I could at least get in some lore knowledge, maybe eventually I could go with them on a hunt if I could prove myself capable of contributing in some way. Maybe. Of course with how protective Dean was, he probably wouldn’t do shit until he was sure my memory was all the way back and I was in a good place to go on a hunt. _Fuck_.

 

Well, at least I was being productive while they were gone. It would have been easy to say fuck a schedule and just wallow in a depression. Having the books to transcribe gave me a purpose, something to do, and it helped me adhere to a daily schedule. I had finished one of the books earlier and started another. I was going to try to get at least halfway done before I called it a night, and I thought I could do it as the second journal was smaller than the first.

 

I was starting to get tired, though, and that last little sprint was a bitch and a half, but as I made it a sense of satisfaction flooded me, and I shut down my laptop for the night as I stretched and wandered back toward the room, flinging myself on the bed for a moment to relax. I didn’t know what I wanted to do to wind down, but as I flipped through YouTube, I realized that I wasn’t focusing on anything because I was tired and ready to go to bed. _Well, might as well not put off the inevitable_ , I thought as I got up and made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish up my nightly routine. As I brushed, standing there at the row of sinks, looking at myself absent-mindedly in the mirror, I suddenly got a flash of something … a conversation? What was I saying? _Ugh, I wish my eyes would choose one colour to be. Green or brown, whatever, just make up its mind!_

 

I heard Sam’s light laughter as he said, _I think your eyes are perfect just the way they are._

 

Laughter … from me? And then, _You would say that you big ol’ softie._

 

My motions had ceased as the whole thing flooded over me, toothpaste dripping from between my lips. Was that a memory?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on updating this just yet, but I finished the chapter and figured what the hell. So here ya go.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to get what I’d experienced out of my head. It was actually a relief when my alarm when off at 6am, despite the early hour. Lounging in bed wasn’t going to make sleep any easier than it had been for the previous hours, so I got up, yawning on my way to the bathroom to take a hot shower, hoping it would wake me up.

 

The shower definitely did help, and so did the pot of coffee I brewed once I was finished. As I sipped on the pipping hot beverage - sweetened by copious amounts of sugar and creamer - the events of the previous night seemed more hazy and less defined than I’d remembered. Maybe in my almost delirious rush to remember something, _anything_ , my brain had made up a little side conversation. It certainly seemed possible. I didn’t know why exactly I doubted that it was real, but something in me was wary. Perhaps I just didn’t want to get my hopes up. I would have been devastated to run to Sam and tell him the potion was working only to regale him with a random-ass memory that he couldn’t remember. Because _that_ would just inspire _all the confidence_. I rolled my eyes as I started up my laptop, going back to the kitchen for a refill while it booted. With another large cup of coffee in my hand, I sat back down at the table and flexed my fingers, ready for another day of transcribing. I was going to be incredibly excited once this project of mine was finished and the plethora of lore knowledge held here was easily accessible to the boys from anywhere with an internet connection, but until then it was a daunting task.

 

I was so wrapped up in my work, that I almost completely missed my lunchtime alarm. I didn’t even realize it was going off for several minutes until I realized that the rhythmic beeping sound had not always been in the background. I shut it off and finally saw a text that Sam had sent earlier. I had forgotten to turn my phone off of silent, and I turned the ringer on before I read what he’d sent.

 

_Hey, we’re making good headway today so far. If all goes well, we should be ready to move in tonight._

 

My heart clenched in my chest as I actively worked to steady out my breathing. I knew Sam was a hunter, an experienced one at that, and a vamp nest was something he’d assisted in taking out many times before. And he not only had his brother to back him up, but he had a literal angel at his side as well, one that wasn’t a giant bag of dicks and that would do anything for the brothers, even if it put _him_ in harm’s way. There was no way a little operation like this could turn south.

 

But that didn’t mean I didn’t worry.

 

I texted him back, _Be safe._ My fingers itched as they hovered over the other letter keys, wanting to add an “I love you” to the message, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to play with his emotions, make him think that I remembered more than I did - if that random conversation was even real at all - and so the two word message was all I ended up sending. I sat at the table for a few minutes, just contemplating how the hell my life had ended up the way it had, when a rumble gurgled through my stomach, signaling I needed to eat. All I’d had so far was two large cups of coffee, but coffee alone wasn’t enough to sustain a person, as much as I liked to insist it was.

 

Standing in the kitchen, I contemplated what to eat. I was hungry, but not for anything specific, and Dean had stocked the place so well there was enough variety to make my head spin. I eventually settled on a can of chicken noodle soup, washing out the large mug that I’d used for coffee earlier and pouring the contents of the can inside it. I rubbed my arms as I waited for it to heat up in the microwave, a chill cutting through me. Before I’d taken a shower, I’d just grabbed a colourful tank out of my dresser to go along with some stretchy skinny jeans, but when I got out I knew that it wasn’t going to cut it, so I’d pulled a zip up hoodie out of the closet and some thick socks out of the drawers to go with it. Before they’d left, Dean had shown me where the environmental controls were and how to adjust them if needed, but it didn’t feel right to up the heat for the whole bunker for one person, so I left it as is.

 

I jumped when the microwave beeper went off, startled for a moment as I’d started getting lost in my own thoughts. I pulled the hoodie sleeves over my hands as I carefully lifted the mug out of the microwave and shuffled over to the table, tentatively blowing on the surface before taking a quick sip. As I sat down, I pulled my phone out of my pocket after hearing the text notification go off.

 

_We will be. Don’t worry. :)_

 

I smiled as I took a sip of soup, hoping that that was true. Just because the boys were experienced didn’t mean they didn’t get caught off guard sometimes. They were still human, still perfectly capable of making mistakes. And in this line of work, mistakes could be deadly, or worse. Hence the situation I was currently in. If I hadn’t had partners like the Winchesters to protect me while I’d been under the stasis spell, I would have been fucked. Even if I could have woken up, without remembering anything I would have been a flaming target for any and all malicious supernatural creatures.

 

I only took a break for as long as it took me to drink the soup. Once I was finished, I went right back to the laptop and continued my work. By the time evening rolled around, I’d finished two more texts, and was setting up the account that I would upload the documents to. I did some tweaking and utilized different security measures, just to make sure that nobody could edit the documents and no unsavoury characters could access our information. There would always be a chance of a leak if this stuff was out there, but it was too valuable a resource to keep stowed away. However, I took every precaution in the book, backing everything up in triplicate in different places and even storing copies on a flash drive, just to be safe. I wasn’t going to be doing all this work for nothing. I even ignored my dinner alarm just so I could keep working on setting everything up. I really wanted to have something tangible to show the guys when I got a chance.

 

The further I worked into the night, it seemed the whole bunker got eerily more quiet somehow. Not that it had been noisy or anything all day, it was just something about the blanket of night that made it more so. As I uploaded and encrypted and transcribed as I waited, my phone’s text message alert went off, nearly sending me shooting through the roof. After I amusedly calmed down my heart rate, I checked the message and saw it was from Sam, again.

 

_Just finished the job, on the way to the motel for a shower and food. Will head home early tomorrow morning._

 

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that it seemed they made it out okay as I replied. _Awesome! So everything went well?_

 

He immediately replied with, _Textbook. :)_ I smiled and went to put my phone back down when another message came through. _Hey, you feel up for a video chat later? It’s fine if you don’t. I just … I miss you._

 

My heart felt like it melted at the text. As weird as this situation was, there was no way I would say no to him. Truth be told, I missed him, too. I missed his presence, the way he smelled, his comforting weight and warmth in the bed next to me. I quickly texted back, _Yeah, that would be cool._ I hesitated for just a moment before I added, _I miss you, too._ I didn’t want to get his hopes up about anything or lead him on in any way, but it was an honest statement. As far as I saw it, there was a difference between being honest in how I was feeling and leading him on.

 

I could practically feel his smile as he replied with, _Great. :)_

 

Now knowing I was going to get some face time with Sam, my stomach felt all fluttery, and no matter how much I tried to concentrate on my self-imposed project, I was incredibly distracted. Eventually I just stood up and walked around the bunker for a little bit, trying to burn up the nervous energy that was suddenly cropping up. _It’s fine,_ I told myself. _It’s just Sam. The same Sam you’ve been hanging around, the same Sam who’s been sleeping in the same freaking bed as you. Get a grip!_ As I sat down at the laptop once more, however, the only thing on my mind was the upcoming video call, and I found myself fiddling around with different superficial options with the site until I got a text.

 

_I’m out of the shower now, you busy? Or is this a good time?_

 

Swallowing my nervousness, I texted back, _No, it’s a perfect time!_

 

My hands shook slightly in those few seconds between the time I sent the text until the time my video call app on my computer started ringing. I willed myself to stop acting like a baby as I navigated the mouse over the notification and clicked “accept”, the screen going black for a moment before it connected to Sam’s camera and I was soon treated to a familiar, flanneled sight. I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face as he waved, and a similar one appeared on his face. I waved back and said, “Hey, you.” The previous anxiety simply dissipated, and I instantly felt better. Content. Happy?

 

“Hey, yourself,” he replied. “Everything going okay over there?”

 

“Oh yeah. Just holding down the fort, you know. Bunker sitting isn’t really exciting, but it’s at least predictable.”

 

“Yeah. Sorry about having to leave you behind …”

 

“I get it,” I interrupted him, not wanting to go there yet again. “I don’t want to be in your way. One less worry is always good, right?”

 

He sighed. “It’s just … I don’t know. I mean I hunted with my brother and Cas and even solo for years before I met you. But after we started hunting together, going without you … it’s just different now. I kept getting this feeling like I had left something behind.”

 

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t had nothing to do this whole time.”

 

“Speaking of, you said yesterday that you had a project of some sort?”

 

“Project?” a voice said offscreen, and soon another familiar face appeared on the side of the screen. Dean looked like he had just hopped out of the shower, his hair still slick with water and nothing on that I could see … at least from the chest up.

 

“Hey, Dean,” I greeted. “Are you even dressed yet?”

 

Dean stood back from the camera, revealing that he was wearing a pair of jeans and had a shirt in hand. “Hey, I have pants on, give me some kind of credit, here.” He paused to pull the shirt on before he said, “I just heard the word ‘project’ and got curious.”

 

“Well, it’s not much, really, but I guess I can show you what I’ve been working on so far,” I said as I minimized the screen on my end so I could pull up my e-mail. “Hold on just a sec, I’ll e-mail the information to you.” I didn’t trust an open video chat to just give them the login information verbally, so I encrypted an e-mail and pasted the address for the document page along with the login information and pushed send. “Okay, I just sent it to you via secure e-mail, so you should have it in just a minute here …” I said as I pulled up the call screen again.

 

“Encrypted e-mail?” Sam asked. “Just what have you been up to?”

 

I grinned. “You’ll see in a minute.” I heard a telltale ding on his end that meant that he’d received the e-mail, and I could see his focus go elsewhere as he pulled it up and started logging in. Both him and Dean remained quiet, so I felt obliged to explain. “So, the other day I was reading a journal, and with the handwriting it was kind of hard to read, and since I know some cases can be time sensitive, there needed to be a way to access information quickly. I started transcribing the journals contents, along with taking pictures of any illustrations and pictures as well as scanning the originals and indexing them, to make an easily readable and searchable document. I then uploaded them to a secure document holder so that you guys can access need to know information wherever you are and get an answer much quicker than if you called someone and asked them to look for you.” I could see their eyes looking through the documents I’d already uploaded and felt compelled to add, “I only have three documents completed so far, this is a _huge_ work in progress, but it’s a start. Sooner or later you guys will have your own portable lore library. And don’t worry, not just anyone will be able to see these, I’ve taken just about every privacy precaution in the book, and I also have quite a few backups in different places, just in the event something does happen to them.”

 

“Wow,” Dean said, the first to speak up. “This is … this is awesome!”

 

I blushed a little at the complement. “Thanks.”

 

Sam chimed in next, “Emmeline, this is brilliant work. I don’t know how we haven’t thought of this ourselves. This is amazing." He paused just a moment before he added, " _You're_ amazing.”

 

I chuckled, and the next words left my lips before I even realized what I’d said. “You would say that, you big ol’ softie.”

 

He started to laugh, but then paused as the words I said sunk in. “What did you say?”

 

It was then I realized that I had said the exact phrase I thought I’d heard myself say the night before. I cleared my throat and repeated, more slowly and questioningly, “You would say that, you big ol’ softie?”

 

He stayed silent for a moment, absorbing the phrase before he said, “Em, has anything happened since we were gone?”

 

I pulled my hoodie tighter around me, trying to figure out just how to go about this. If I revealed what I thought had happened the previous night and it turned out to be a bust, I would have just gotten his - and Dean’s, since he was still standing there off to the side - hopes up for nothing, which was what I was trying to avoid. I hadn’t anticipated betraying myself like this, and since he was now asking me point blank, I knew I couldn’t lie. Oh I could try, and I could probably be pretty convincing, but I had a feeling that Sam and Dean would know I was hiding something anyway. _Well, fuck it. He asked, so it’s on him_. “Um, maybe?” I started, still unsure how to say exactly what happened.

 

“What was it? What happened?” he asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

 

I bit my lip and then laughed lightly, in more of a defense mechanism kind of way then any actual amusement. “I don’t know, I just …” I shook my head, “… last night, I was brushing my teeth, and it was like I could _hear_ a short conversation.”

 

“A conversation?” Dean asked, leaning closer to the camera as well. “What was it about?”

 

“Nothing, really. Like three exchanges, that was literally it. I … I don’t even really know if it was real or not. I mean, it was such a short snippet … I didn’t even know if I wanted to bring it up to you because it seemed so insignificant that if Sam didn’t remember it, I was afraid I would have gotten your hopes up for nothing.”

 

Sam grinned, “Well I can’t tell you if I remember it or not if you don’t tell me.”

 

I chuckled. “Point taken.” I took a sip of water to try to steel myself before I continued, addressing Sam specifically, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under Dean’s intense gaze. “Um, I said something about my eyes. Something like I wish it would just choose what colour it wants to be and stick with it, and then you said that my eyes were perfect just the way they were, and then that’s when I said … what I said.” He was silent for a minute and my nervousness returned ten fold. “So … yeah. That was it. Like I said, it was really short and insignificant …”

 

“And it happened,” Sam interrupted. I immediately stopped in my tracks, my brain scrambling to process what he said as he continued, “Em, that … that really happened. It was the day before we went on that witch hunt, the one where you were hit with the stasis spell.” He sat back on the motel loveseat, looking up and away for a moment as he grinned like a madman before he looked back at the computer. “It really is starting to come back, just like I knew it would.”

 

I wanted to cry from the relief alone, but I held it back, able to see that Sam’s eyes were glassy and glazed over, the same kind of look people usually get before they cry. Sam didn’t look like he could talk for a moment, so Dean intervened. “Emmeline, this is great, this is fantastic! This is even better than the online lore library. Even though it’s small, it’s _something_ , which is a whole helluva lot more than we’ve gotten so far.” He paused and smirked, “It just means we couldn’t force it like we were trying to do. We just have to let it come back on its own, at its own pace.”

 

Sam looked like he was about to say something when over the mic I heard a familiar flutter of wings before a certain deep, gravelly voice said off-screen, “I don’t know why you required five extra large pizzas, I’m not going to be eating and there are only two of you …”

 

“Hey!” Dean protested. “Nico’s isn’t everywhere, so when we’re in town, we pig out, that’s the rule.”

 

“That’s a very odd rule, Dean, your stomachs can only physically hold a certain amount of food before it ruptures, and that is a very unpleasant experience.”

 

“So we have leftovers, big whoop! Who doesn’t love leftovers?”

 

Sam had gone looked like he was trying his damnedest to hold in his laughter, while I was pressing my hand over my mouth silently indulging in a snicker as we listened to Dean and Cas bicker like an old married couple. I could see where Sam was biting the inside of his cheek, fighting even the smile that was threatening to spread and bring out the guffaws that were surely lying in wait.

 

“Besides …” Dean started to add, “… that just means we’ll have enough to snack on during the trip back and also give some to Em once we get back to the bunker. I’m sure she’d enjoy a slice of Nico’s, wouldn’t you, Em?” He had suddenly directed the last part towards me, wanting me to agree with him and defend him in his case against Cas.

 

“Is she on the phone?” I heard Cas ask.

 

“Nah, she’s on the laptop, video call.”

 

Dean stepped back as I saw Cas sweep into view. “Hello, Emmeline,” he greeted me, before holding up the boxes in his hands. “Your boyfriend and mine have decided to take on the challenge of consuming five extra large pizzas from a place called Nico’s.” He paused before he added, “I do not think they will win.”

 

I couldn’t help the chuckles that escaped as I said, “Well just bring home the leftovers, I’ll never say no to pizza.”

 

“See? She can help us eat the leftovers, it’s no big deal,” Dean said, turning back toward the screen. “We were thinking of you the whole time,” he added with a wink.

 

“Sure, sure,” I said. “Well, I’ll leave you to dinner. It’s about time I had some, too.”

 

“Alright,” Sam said. “We’ll be back home tomorrow.”

 

“See you then,” I replied. “And you guys better save me some of that pizza!”

 

Sam chuckled as he reached forward to end the call, giving me a wink as he said, “Don’t worry, we will.”

 

And with that, the screen went black again, reflecting only my face until I closed the application out. Sitting back in the chair, I let out a big breath, thinking, _Well, that went well._ I felt just a little bit of the weight on my shoulders starting to lift. I wasn’t in the clear yet, but I was starting to see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t much, but it was encouraging.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, I woke up before the alarm went off and just stared at the other side of the bed, currently empty and cold. Sam would be home tonight, and I was just so excited at the prospect of having him around again, I could have squealed. I’d really taken him for granted a bit, just having him around me, feeling his presence, his heat. And the bed really was warmer with him in it, even if we didn’t touch during the night. Suddenly, though, that’s what I wanted. I wanted to feel his solid body against my own, his arms as they encircled me and pulled me close, the mild smell of his cologne that lingered. I couldn’t deny I wanted it, even though I couldn’t remember exactly _why_. I just _knew_. It was like an instinct, a reflex, a habit that you just _did_ and you didn’t question why you did it. I didn’t want to get Sam’s hopes up, but I _needed_ to be close to him, and I didn’t know if I was going to be able to stop myself once he was physically here.

 

My alarm sounded, and I shut it off before I rolled back over and buried my face in Sam’s pillow. I could still smell him in it, a mix of his shampoo and cologne and natural musk that was just _him_. It was comforting, but it just wasn’t enough. It was a poor substitute for the source.

 

But the source would be home soon enough, and I had work to do. So I reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day, pulling on the same pair of skinny jeans I’d worn the day before - they weren’t dirty, so why not? - and a light green henley. As I plunked down on the bed to pull on some socks, I thought about the boys, and that they would be arriving sometime around dinner. _Hmm, maybe I should make them something …_ I knew they had leftovers, but I wanted them to have a nice, home cooked meal once they got in, and as I thought over ingredients, I started formulating an idea. A quick trip to the kitchen later, and I had ground beef and italian sausage in the sink, defrosting under some warm water, while I started up my computer and got to work on my side project. I was going to be cutting into my work time today to cook, so I had to get as much done as possible first.

 

I got a text from Sam around lunch, letting me know they would be in around 5 that evening, and I told him to not worry about dinner, that I was making some for them. _You don’t have to do that_ , he’d texted back.

 

_I want to. :) Besides, the meat is already defrosting._

 

He had conceded and said he would let Dean know that he didn’t have to swing by anywhere for dinner tonight.

 

My eyes were starting to cross, just staring at the computer screen like I’d been doing for the past couple of days, so I decided to take a break and cook a little. I did enjoy cooking, anyway, and I wanted to have something real nice for the boys. I was about halfway done with the next text anyway, so I figured I’d made good enough progress for the day.

 

The ground beef and italian sausage were properly defrosted by now, so it was the perfect time to start up the sauce for some lasagna. I wanted it to simmer for a little while so the flavours could marry together. That was one of the most important parts of making sauce, is making sure it cooked together long enough so everything really meshed together. It started out simple enough, just some ground beef, italian sausage, minced garlic, and some spices to season the meat with. Once it browned, I drained the grease and set it aside, throwing a little bit of butter in the pot and tossing in some onions, celery, and carrots. It might sound weird for a sauce, but it tasted wonderful all together, and I had diced them small enough that they would barely be noticeable. Once the onions were translucent and the celery and carrots were soft, I threw in a can of stewed tomatoes, some tomato paste, and enough tomato sauce to make it an actual sauce, then I transferred the meat back into the pot, added a few more spices into the mix, gave it a good stir, then set it on low to simmer for a couple of hours. It was already starting to smell good.

 

While the sauce did its thing, I had to figure out what to do while I waited, and I figured I might as well make a dessert while I was at it. And what better dessert to make for a Winchester than a pie?

 

I started looking up recipes online, and between the recipes I was seeing and the ingredients I had, it looked like I had the proper ingredients for a couple of peach pies. So, I started preheating the oven and gathered all the needed ingredients. Thankfully, the pie dough was pre-rolled, so I didn’t have to do too much cutting, aside from the strips I wanted to set on top. The peach mixture was easy enough to make, and even though the peaches were canned instead of fresh, I figured they would be just as good, I just made sure to drain them really well and I rinsed them of the syrup before I poured them into the mixing bowl, just to make sure. Once everything was mixed, I tipped the contents of the bowl into the pie crusts and dotted the top with pieces of butter before I started laying down strips of pie dough. Might as well put forth some sort of effort if I was going to do this, right? No sense in doing it halfway.

 

Once I was done, I brushed the top with egg and stuck them both in the pre-heated oven and set the timer, taking a minute to stir the sauce before I went on to other tasks. Namely, prepping some bread for cheesy garlic bread and deciding what kind of salad to make. There was a couple of loaves of french bread that Sam had probably picked up and I didn’t want them to go bad, so cheesy garlic bread seemed like a better fate than the trash can. It was easy enough, after all, the most labour intense part being shredding all the cheese I wanted to use. I had to shred some anyway, for the lasagna, so I just went ahead and shredded all I needed, and by the time I was done there was an ache in my wrist and elbow that I swore was never going to go away. But, I had cheese for days, now, so that had to count for something.

 

I had melted some butter and garlic together and I brushed it over the bread before I sprinkled on the cheese, making sure there was plenty of both before I set it aside to broil later. Now it was just a matter of a salad, and I pulled out a mixture of lettuce and chopped it up to mix by hand, making my own mix of arugula, spinach, butterleaf, and a little romaine. Next, I diced up some tomatoes and onion and sprinkled in some feta cheese before I covered it and set it back in the fridge to chill. I pretty much just had to wait for the lasagna noodles to cook and I would be about ready to put it all together.

 

While I waited, I transcribed a little bit more, doing my damnedest to figure out what this one particular Man of Letters was trying to say, but his damn cursive writing was so intricate it was almost like trying to read a different language. I had questioned a couple of times when I picked it up if it was, indeed, written in English, but the words that I could easily make it betrayed that it was, indeed, English. So, I struggled through it, at least until the noodles were done, and then I took them out and started prepping for the lasagna itself. I had already turned the temperature down for the pie before I set the noodles on to boil, so it was close to being done. Probably would be by the time I put together the lasagna.

 

Which, that was pretty easy. A little tedious, with all the copious layering, but easy. I hoped they liked their lasagna extra saucy and extra cheesy, because that was how I liked mine. It was smelling magnificent as it was, and I swear I would have dug in right then and there if I could. But it wouldn’t do to dig in to half-done lasagna, so I pulled the pie out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool while I let the lasagna cook, impatient as all hell for dinner now. I popped a cherry tomato in my mouth as I covered the pies in aluminum foil so they wouldn’t cool _too_ much by the time we were ready for them. If it all went the way I planned it, they would still be nice and warm, enough to melt the vanilla ice cream I’d scoop on top. _Fuck, I’m making myself way too hungry right now_.

 

I checked the time on my phone and it was a little before 4. It _should_ all come together just right, then, give them time to get in and put their stuff up before they eat. I retreated back to my laptop and the confusing mess of a journal that I was trying to transcribe. Almost surprisingly, the parts where it seemed like he’d written it rushed instead of taking his time was easier, like when he could take his time he put in effort in making it look fancy. _Feh,_ legible _is more important than fanciness, derpy mcderp derp,_ I thought with an eye roll _._ But, I took the easy when I could get it, and made it about 3/4 of the way through the journal by the time the timer went off for the lasagna. It was all bubbly and saucy when I took it out, and I swear it hurt my heart to set it on the stove top to cool. But, I had to bake the garlic bread anyway, so I set the broiler to low and stuck the pan in. Just as I did so, I heard the very familiar rumble of an engine as Dean pulled Baby into the garage before he cut the engine. I heard every little sound as they opened the doors and pulled their bags out of the car before their footsteps trekked toward the door.

 

Sam was the first through the door, like an antsy puppy, and he smiled as soon as he caught sight of me. I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my own face in response as Sam didn’t even bother to set his bag down before he walked over and pulled me into a hug. I squeezed him back, closing my eyes as I breathed in his scent, feeling like a missing piece of myself had been returned and I could actually _breathe_ again.

 

Our little moment was interrupted by his brother, exclaiming as he walked in the door, “My _God_ what smells so good in here?”

 

I chuckled as I somewhat reluctantly pulled away from Sam to see Dean and Cas standing in the doorway, Dean holding his nose in the air to pull in all of the wonderful smells that the kitchen had going on. “I’ve got lasagna made, and cheesy garlic bread in the oven, a salad in the fridge, and some pie on the counter.”

 

“Pie? There’s _pie_?”

 

“Yes, but _none until after dinner_ ,” I scolded.

 

“Well, shit, what are we waiting for?”

 

I laughed. “Go put your things away, I’ll set the table.”

 

They were back in maybe five minutes, but it was long enough for me to set out dishes and put the food on the table. The cheese had melted nicely and the bread was nice and toasty and perfect, and the lasagna was all ready to be cut into. I think all of our stomachs rumbled as we sat down - well, all except Cas’, of course - and we dug in hungrily. I closed my eyes as I took my first bite; the sauce was _perfect_ and the cheese had melted and browned just right. Yep, this had definitely been a great idea.

 

I think the boys agreed with my silent assessment, because the meal was very quiet. I always took a quiet meal like this to be a good indicator, because people were more interested in eating the good food than conversing. Dean had leaned back in his chair when he was done, groaning with a full stomach, totally ready to call it quits until I reminded him of the pie and suddenly he was ready for more. Since he was the pie connoisseur, I let him cut it, and I fetched the ice cream. Because I had covered it with the aluminum foil, it still had enough residual heat that the ice cream started melting slightly when I put a scoop over each slice. _Perfect._ Everything had gone to plan, and based on the orgasmic look on Dean’s face, it’d had its intended effect.

 

Later that night, as we all wound down and went to bed, Sam went to take a shower as I got dressed for bed. I pulled on my typical loose shirt and capri leggings and crawled into bed, my full stomach making me sleepy enough, but I didn’t want to fall asleep just yet. I wanted to wait for Sam, wait to feel that comforting weight in the bed beside me. Maybe even snuggle up to his side …

 

He walked in with only a towel on, as per usual, and once again I averted my eyes as he dropped it and pulled on his boxers and pajamas, forgoing even a shirt as he crawled into the other side of the bed. He looked awfully tired, but instead of closing his eyes and going to sleep, he looked over at me. Our eyes met, and he rolled over onto his side to face me as he whispered, “How are you?”

 

I shrugged. “Okay, I guess,” I replied, equally as hushed, though I didn’t know why we were whispering. Dean and Cas’ room was on the other side of the bunker - and with good reason - and even so it wasn’t like whatever we said wasn’t something that they shouldn’t know. Still, with the lights on low, lying under the covers near each other, it felt intimate and close, and I wouldn’t have wanted to share the moment with anyone else. This, this was _our_ moment, and I was going to soak up as much of it as I could. I bit my lip as I admitted, “I missed you.”

 

His breath quickened ever so slightly. “You did?”

 

I nodded and sighed, scolding myself for being so obstinate. I was so scared about leading him on and getting his hopes up that I was repressing what I was really, truly feeling, and I was determined to stop it right here and now. I needed to be honest with him. And, if I was honest, there was no way it could hurt, right? I shoved aside my doubts and finally admitted, “Even though I don’t … _consciously_ remember you, or pretty much anything about my life before, it’s like … like _something_ in me remembers. Maybe it’s my subconscious or something, but … you make me feel safe. And happy. And if I’m being honest, it’s been pretty hard sleeping alone.”

 

I had lowered my eyes while I was talking, feeling like if I continued to meet his intense gaze then I would lose my nerve, and damnit I wanted to get that all out in the open first. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I was almost afraid that it had had the _opposite_ affect that I was looking for, but I soon hear the rustle of the blanket and then warmth as his hand enveloped mine. I looked up and while he wasn’t speaking, his eyes conveyed so much it was like I could read his mind. Happiness, hope, questioning, hesitation … searching for a connection that he was desperately wanting to be there, and I wanted to meet it. I squeezed his hand and then scooted closer to him, hoping he would respond the way I wanted, and he did.

 

His arms circled around me with a comforting weight, pulling me close to his chest, his fingers in my hair and his lips on my forehead. “If I’m being honest,” he whispered, “it’s been pretty hard sleeping alone for me, too.”

 

We didn’t say anything else after that, we simply drank in the simple pleasure that came from being close to one another. His body heat was even hotter than I remembered, though maybe it was because I was so close this time. Either way, between my full stomach and his comforting presence so close to me, I soon drifted off to sleep, my hand looped around his waist and our legs tangled together, like it was meant to be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually getting close to the end, here! This was going to be the next to last chapter, but it ended up getting too long, so what I'd planned for the end of this chapter will comprise the penultimate chapter. Enjoy!

The next thing I consciously remembered was warmth. Heat. Not the soft kind of blanketing warmth, but the blazing kind that made you feel like you were skirting too close to the surface of the sun. I moaned ever so softly as I woke, getting my bearings, before I realized the source of that heat and pulled it closer to me, burying myself in it. If I would burn up embracing this sun, then so be it.

 

We had barely moved from last night, only small adjustments for our subconscious comfort. My face was buried in his chest and I felt his breath in my hair, across my scalp as he breathed, the movements in sync with the expanding of his chest. I felt an _ache_ , deep inside me, like I wanted to just crawl under his skin and live there, forever enveloped by his presence. It was almost strange, in a way, that I could feel so deeply for someone I’d really only just met. But, I hadn’t just met him, at least according to my subconscious. Despite what I did or didn’t remember, my feelings and my subconscious - and, okay, my body - had very distinct reactions to Sam, reactions that were getting harder and harder to ignore, especially when I gave into them like this.

 

But I didn’t want to stop.

 

Sam suddenly drew in a deep breath as he woke up, shifting slightly as he got his wits about him before I felt the light pressure of his lips against my forehead. I grinned, happy, not only that I was on the receiving end of this, but that he felt okay with expressing his affection without the fear of making me uncomfortable. I lifted my head to meet his hazy, still half-asleep gaze, and I loved the lazy smile that tugged at his lips. “Hey,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

 

“Hey,” I replied, chuckling slightly.

 

“Sleep okay?”

 

“Like a fucking rock,” I mumbled as I buried my face in his chest again. “Best sleep ever.”

 

It was his turn to chuckle, the action rumbling through his chest. “It was for me, too.” He paused before he added, “I never slept good at all while you were under, hell I hardly slept _period_. Even after you woke up, it was like everything had changed and … and even though you were right here, it was like you were miles away. I slept a little better just knowing that you were alive and alright, but … I never really relaxed.”

 

Poor Sam. I had been so wrapped up in _me_ and _my feelings_ and everything like that, I had barely stopped to consider Sam and his feelings. Aside from when I wanted to prevent myself from leading him on, I had barely given them a second thought, and I felt the sharp twist of a figurative knife in my chest. This must have been hell for him. To see and hear his own girlfriend alive and talking and functioning, yet be unable to do even simple things to express affection, like that avenue of his life was just blocked off. It was cold and rude and I hadn’t done much to ease it. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

 

And, like the good boyfriend, he was right there with the save. “Don’t be,” he replied immediately, his fingers drawing soft, random patterns against my scalp and the back of my neck as we both simply laid there, relishing the closeness that we had finally found. In this life, you had to fight for everything you got. And sometimes, apparently, you had to fight for it more than once. But that only showed the depth of your love and devotion and Sam’s had me breathless with its intensity. His kindness, his gentleness, his _patience_. I didn’t know of too many people who would have put up with all of this, but he did so willingly, and he’d never once left my side.

 

Shit, there are some motherfuckers out there you can’t _pay_ to do that. And Sam did it for free.

 

I don’t know how long we laid there, in the semi-darkness, clinging to each other with hope, hope for the future, for each other, but it was apparently too long for certain people, because we weren’t able to stay wrapped in that intimate moment forever, as much as we both would have liked to. Instead, the door suddenly banged open and Dean barged in, flipping on the light as he did. Sam and I both jumped, at the sudden intrusion and at the blazing light overhead.

 

Whatever Dean had been planning on saying died on his lips as he saw us and said, “Oh, whoa, uh … sorry, I didn’t know you two were … uh, yeah … uh, anyway, Bobby’ll be here in a few minutes, so up and at em. Coffee’s made. Cas got some muffins from the bakery. And, uh, yeah, I’ll get going now.”

 

His heavy boots beat a hasty retreat, and as soon as he was out of earshot I let out the stream of laughter that I’d been trying to hold in at his awkwardness at finding us wrapped up in each other. I mean, I’m not sure exactly what he’d been expecting, but it apparently wasn’t that. Served him right, though, just barging in and turning on the light. I was sure he would try to tease us - or at least Sam - about it later, but I was pretty sure that this wasn’t the first time this kind of thing had happened. Just because I couldn’t remember it didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

 

A quick scramble for clothes later, and we were both trudging toward the kitchen, yawning and rubbing our arms in the chilly bunker air. I had opted for some fleece leggings and a red flannel shirt today, and was I ever glad for it. Then again, I was pretty sure that flannel was the required hunter uniform, so it was no surprise to find more than a few flannel shirts on my side of the closet. Hell, if anything, I was surprised to not find more flannel on Sam’s side, though maybe some had been irreparably … err, damaged … in the line of work and he’d thrown them out. Totally plausible, really.

 

The smell of coffee beckoned us closer to the kitchen and Sam grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet for us while I fetched some creamer and sugar. Sam took a little sugar in his coffee, while Dean drank his black. I was the only one that fixed it up. It was actually kinda sweet that they made sure to stock up on some creamer for me. If it wasn’t for all the supernatural shit that happened, someone would have thought I’d hit the jackpot with the great boyfriend and awesome boyfriend-in-law. Wait, was that the right term? Was that even a word? Fuck it, it was a word now. Anything went before I had coffee.

 

The elixir of life was still steaming as I held the mug in both hands, blowing on it gently before I took a sip. I closed my eyes as I felt the heat envelope my body, making up for the loss of contact with my personal furnace aka Sam Winchester. I took a few more sips before I crept over to the table to see what kind of muffins were available, and I immediately nabbed a lemon poppyseed, not even looking at the others once I’d seen it.

 

Sam chuckled behind me. “Well, your preference in muffins hasn’t changed.”

 

“Hey, lemon poppyseed is _awesome_ ,” I said as I took a big bite. Oh fuck yes, this was perfect.

 

Dean rejoined us in the kitchen with Cas, apparently holding back the teasing for now as he got himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a cherry cheesecake muffin that looked like it was more dessert than anything else. Sam was already happily munching on a cranberry walnut and I was halfway done with mine. As we sat there, drinking coffee and eating muffins, I heard a rumble of a vehicle pull into the garage. At first I was puzzled, but then I realized it was probably Bobby, since Dean had mentioned him coming earlier, though I was still mostly asleep at that point so my memory was a little hazy of him bursting in on us. Soon enough, Bobby fucking Singer was walking through the door, nodding a hello as he sat down at the table with us. Cas already had a mug of coffee ready for him, and he mumbled thanks as he took a sip before he reached for a blueberry muffin and said, “So what’s this case you want me to take a look at?”

 

Dean immediately cut in and said, “Later.” There was a few uncomfortable, awkward moments that followed, filled with attempted subtly as Dean tried to cast eyes at me to indicate he didn’t want to talk about it around me and Bobby understanding. I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen the gesture as I finished my muffin and took a deep sip of my coffee, but I’d be lying. I didn’t know why they wanted to keep me on the outside of this one - they never had before - but whatever. For as loyal as they were, these boys could be secretive as fuck, and I wasn’t about to play games with them. So I stood up and took my coffee with me, heading into the library where I still had my laptop set up. There was enough distance between the kitchen and the library that they could talk about whatever it was they wanted to talk about and I could work some more on my project. Might as well be productive.

 

They seemed to have taken my hint to go ahead and discuss whatever it was they were going to discuss as they stayed holed up in the kitchen far longer than necessary just to finish some coffee and muffins. I kind of wanted a refill on my own coffee, but I didn’t want to intrude on them, so I just kept transcribing, leaving my mug to contemplate its own emptiness on the table in front of me as I concentrated on the journal in front of me. I felt a headache start to blossom in the back of my head, and I studiously ignored it as I made progress, not willing to even get up and grab an ibuprofen and interrupt the flow I currently had going. I was actually getting a hang of this asshole’s writing, and now that I was in a groove I wasn’t about to stop.

 

They all exited the kitchen at the same time, seemingly goal-oriented as they looked like they were headed somewhere with _purpose_. Sam was the only one who spared me a glance and assured me. “Hey, we’ll be right back, okay?” he said as they all retreated further into the bunker.

 

I nodded. It was an instruction, in and of itself. _We’ll be right back, so don’t follow us, please_. Whatever. Those damn Winchesters and their secrecy. At least the kitchen was clear so I could get another cup of coffee. I was finding it hard to wake up today, still fighting the feeling of grogginess despite being up and moving around. Or maybe it was the headache that was still vying for my attention, spreading around to my temples. I rubbed them as I sat back down with my coffee, wondering if I should adjust some of my screen settings to prevent eye strain. I knew taking on this project was going to be huge, but it seemed the effects were already starting to take a toll on me. So, I softened up some of the screen colours and lowered the brightness, hoping that would help until I could get a chance to go grab something. As it was, I didn’t want to chance stumbling onto whatever hoodoo the boys were cooking up and have them act all weird hiding whatever it was they were trying to hide from me. I was almost done with the document, only needing to scan in pages of the journal to attach to the document and then I would have a fourth file ready to upload.

 

I was in the middle of attaching the scans when they finally emerged, Sam and Dean carrying bags and Cas close on Dean’s heels. “What’s going on?” I asked, concerned that they were leaving _again_ on some unknown hunt.

 

“We’ll be back by this evening, don’t worry,” Dean offered as he brushed past me, Castiel following right after.

 

I looked at Sam, who was looking rather guilty, probably sworn to some silence and feeling conflicted about not sharing. I was nonchalant about their secrets earlier, but if they were actually going out hunting somewhere, I was slightly more concerned. Like, a lot more concerned. _Especially_ if it was something they went out of their way to not share with me. “It’s okay,” he said, trying to assure me. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

 

It was not satisfactory, but it was the only answer I would get. “Just be safe, okay?”

 

He smiled. “We will, I promise. Don’t worry, okay?”

 

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Too late.”

 

There wasn’t anything more to be said, and so he leaned down and kissed my forehead and walked out the door. Bobby walked in behind the boys, but the way he lagged behind indicated he wasn’t going with them. I wondered why they would bring Bobby in only to leave him behind, but it seemed they understood the logic of their plan. I sighed and sat back down at my laptop, checking to make sure everything was ready to upload and then pulling up the site. As I sat, brooding, Bobby approached and took a seat across from me at the table. I looked up and smiled at him; if I knew the boys like I did, whatever they were doing was not his idea. “Hey, Bobby.”

 

“Hey, Emmeline,” he replied as he took off his hat for a second to scratch his head, replacing it before he asked, “How are you doing?”

 

I shrugged. “Well, okay, I guess. I’m alive, so, could be worse, ya know?”

 

He nodded. He knew what I meant. “So what are you working on, there?”

 

My eyes brightened as I immediately launched in an explanation, even showing him the site and what I had done so far. Of course, I asked for his e-mail so I could send the login information to him, and he said he had quite a few lore books that might be helpful as well and asked if it would be possible to upload them as well. I had the site access locked down pretty hard, but I went ahead and made him an admin, along with myself, so he could add some of his own lore at his leisure. I was actually showing him how best to set up his documents when my headache started growing noticeably worse. It had spread from the back of my head to my temples and now was encroaching behind my eyes, like it was trying to spread around and then throughout my head. I tried to ignore it, but it just wasn’t working and I had to press my fingers against my temple in a desperate bid to relieve some of the pain. I heard Bobby say something, my name maybe, but it sounded like he was far away, and I could barely even feel his hand when he touched my shoulder. All I could feel, all I could sense was pain, growing pain that wouldn’t be ignored or denied and my vision started weaving in and out until it went out completely and I was left in total darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, next to last chapter, people, this is not a drill!

I felt like I was falling into a swirling darkness, unable to feel a tangible surface like I would have expected. I couldn’t even tell if my eyes were open or not and my body felt like lead, my limbs refusing to listen to the commands my brain was trying to send it. I couldn’t even open my mouth to call out to anyone, to cry for help or ask what was happening. The only thing I could perceive, other than the darkness, were voices. Not one in particular, but multiple ones, all talking over each other in a cacophony of sound that started out barely audible and eventually grew and grew until I cringed and wanted to cover my ears.

 

As the voices seemed to reach maximum volume, flashes of light started sputtering to life around me, breaking through the darkness. I tried to twist around, to find the source of the light, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from, it was simply shooting all around me in different directions until eventually it started making serious cracks and broke through. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but it felt good, like a relief that was flooding over me, though I didn’t know what for yet. One of the cracks opened up near me and I fell through it, but I wasn’t afraid, even when I saw earth rushing up to meet me. Somehow, I just felt free.

 

Even though I hit solid ground, I didn’t even feel it, but I did feel control return to my body and I stood up. I knew this wasn’t reality, as if the whole falling to the ground uninjured thing didn’t give it away, visually it was different. It was like the colours were … faded, for lack of a better word. It wasn’t quite black and white, but it was almost there. This place, though, it looked very familiar. Almost like …

 

“Emmeline,” I heard someone call, and I turned around to see a man standing there, inspecting a gun.

 

I knew who he was. “Dad?”

 

“You ready to show me what you can do with this?” he asked as he handed the gun out to me.

 

I reached out to grasp the pistol, the cool metal feeling heavy and yet familiar in my hand. “Yeah, yeah I am,” I replied, following him further into the woods. I definitely knew this place, this was a wooded area outside of Calgary where my father would take me to teach me how to hunt. It was privately owned by one of his friends, so nobody would disturb us as we practiced shooting, knife work, hand to hand combat, and anything physical I would need to know.

 

And this … this was the first time he’d taken me out here.

 

Even though, from my perspective, I was still in the same body, at this time I was 13 years old. I had been begging my dad to teach me how to hunt for years, but he refused to take me or even train me until I was officially a teenager. I had looked forward to my 13th birthday ever since, counting down the days in between begging him to see if he would take me any sooner, which never worked. This particular memory was occurring the day after my birthday; the start of my life as a hunter.

 

We weren’t far from the targets that he’d set up a while ago, honing his own skills and training other young hunters like me. He’d set up various sized targets and different heights and distances, some easier to hit than others. He directed me to one of the easiest ones, just wanting to gauge what I could do out the gate. He helped me set up my stance, advised on how to aim, told me how to take off the safety, and then told me to go ahead and let off a shot whenever I was ready. I took a deep breath, aimed to where I thought I should, and squeezed off a round. Despite my current knowledge, just like in my memory, the shot dinged on the outside of the target, nowhere near the middle. I remembered how disappointed I was that I hadn’t even gotten close, but my dad was right by my side. “It’s okay, Emmeline, I wasn’t expecting you to hit a bulls-eye the first time. If anything, I’m impressed you hit the target at all. Not everybody does.”

 

I turned and gave him a smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

 

He smiled as he clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Now come on, let’s adjust your stance and aim a bit, see if we can make it better.”

 

“Okay!” I exclaimed, but as he went to show me, everything started fading out as another crack opened nearby. I turned around, but my father wasn’t there anymore, and I knew what I needed to do as I jumped through the crack in the ground with no hesitation.

 

This time, when I landed, I was still outside of Calgary, but not quite as far as before. I was in a fairly rural area, some houses around me, but spread out to give each other space instead of side by side like in the suburbs. Twilight was falling fast, and even though I wasn’t completely sure what was going on at the moment, I felt exposed and vulnerable. I felt my trusty .44 magnum stuck in the back of my jeans, and I reached back to grab it and hold it at my side, at the ready in case anything came for me. Something was rather familiar about the barn up ahead, and so I jogged over to it, leaning my back against it as I checked what I had it loaded with, to see if it could give me any clue as to what I was hunting.

 

I pulled out one bullet and found that it was silver. _Werewolves, then. Lovely_. I now was fairly certain what was about to happen, and I didn’t exactly want to relive this, but I seemed I needed to play it out to progress further. So, play it out I would. If I was correct about which hunt this was, then this barn was exactly where I needed to be, anyway, so I raised my gun and slowly made my way over to a side door. I crouched as I slowly opened it, slipping inside and closing the door without making hardly any kind of noise. I practically crawled around a wall that separated a small storage area from the rest of the barn, and when I glanced around the corner, my heart dropped as I saw what I had been dreading.

 

My father laid there, his body split open from navel to sternum, intestines and other various organs spilled out onto the ground. The dirt-packed floor was soaked with his blood and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me, just like it had last time. I had been too late to help him, too late to save him. The only thing I could do now was take down the monsters that had ended him, the ones that he had been hunting. They were nearby, nearer than I’d even thought, as since I’d been distracted by the sight of my father’s body, I hadn’t heard the pack leader slip in the barn behind him and clobber me over the head, not knocking me out but knocking me senseless enough to where I couldn’t fight him off. “What do we have here, another little hunter stalking us? Your kind just don’t learn, do they?” he said as he kicked away my gun, grabbing me by the throat and hauling me up. He was strong enough to crush my throat outright, but he didn’t. He liked to play with his food. I tried not to think about him playing with my father, but it was rather difficult to do with his mutilated corpse there in front of me, the monster’s cruelty on display in the most heartbreaking of ways.

 

The werewolf dragged me over to the center of the barn, stringing me up by the arms, forcing me to stand almost on my tiptoes with my father’s body at my feet. “You bastard,” I spat out.

 

“I’ve been called worse,” he threw back at me before adding, “You know, I thought we would be hunting for this full moon, but it looks like we’ll have a buffet instead.” He ran a finger down my cheek, the rough, long fingernail scratching at my skin. I gulped as I looked him in the eye, afraid and angry, and he returned my glare, his dark eyes dangerous and amused. “Won’t be long, now.”

 

Almost as if on cue, the large front door of the barn opened, revealing three more werewolves that were a part of this particular pack. It wasn’t the biggest pack, not by far, but it was one of the deadliest packs in Western Canada and they needed to be taken down. My father had tried, and had obviously failed. I had been too distracted to take them out myself, but it wasn’t over for me just yet.

 

As the last pack member crossed the threshold and started to close the door, a shot rang out and struck him, felling him instantly. The other members were immediately on edge, and the leader barked out orders for the other two to investigate, but it was too late as another one of the monsters were taken out and a stray bullet sliced through the rope that was holding me up, setting me free. I fell to the floor, my hands sinking into the blood-soaked earth. The leader aimed a kick at my chest, and the force of the impact threw me backward, but it was the exact direction I needed. While the other hunter - a woman with a long ponytail - converged on the other pack member, I grabbed my gun from where it had been kicked, aimed a shot at the leader, and fired, the silver bullet hitting home. He was dead before the hit the ground.

 

I looked up at my saviour as she fully entered the barn, but she had been unknown to me up until this point. This was where my life was going to change yet again, where I started venturing outside of Canada, since I had no real reason to stay. And this person was going to be the starting point for everything else that would come. She smiled gently as she approached me, pulling out a knife and saying, with an odd accent I hadn’t initially placed, “For the ropes.” I nodded, holding out my wrists and allowing her to cut me free. Even though the main rope holding me up had been severed, the bit around my wrist had to be cut. “What’s your name?” she asked as the last of it fell off, her eyes looking at me intensely.

 

“Emmeline Roth. And you are?”

 

She smiled as she replied, “Eileen Leahy.”

 

Once again, the area around us started fading, and Eileen disappeared as a crack appeared in the wall across from me. I didn’t know how many more of these I had to go through, but it seemed like things were starting to come back to me. I just had to keep going forward. I took a deep breath and stood up, jumping through the crack before I lost my nerve.

 

This time, I materialized in a car, and thankfully I recovered pretty quickly as I was the one driving. Eileen was in the passenger seat beside me, looking at the map on her phone. “Take the next left, and then just keep going and we should make it there in about twenty minutes.”

 

“Alright," I replied, seeing the turn come up and navigating us onto the dirt road. I definitely knew where we were, and even though this was supposed to be my first time, it wouldn’t be the last time I drove this familiar road. Sure enough, a very familiar impala sat on the side of the road by a nondescript mound that housed the Men of Letters bunker. As we approached, both the driver and passenger doors opened, and the brothers Winchester got out of the car to greet us. They had met us here to give us the run down on a pretty serious haunting case nearby that they wanted some backup on, and Eileen had answered the call. Even though I now knew the brothers quite well, butterflies still erupted in my stomach as I officially met Sam for the first time, taking his large hand in mine as we shook upon introduction. As he smiled at me, everything started fading again, and a crack appeared behind me, right where Eileen’s car had been. It seemed I was getting closer to the end, here, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was like Scott Bakula, hoping that the next leap was the leap home as I jumped through the next crack.

 

The next memory I landed in seemed a lot more recent, and it was confirmed when I pulled a bullet out of my gun to find hollow-points. _Witch-killing bullets._ I had to be close, now. I put my gun back in my pants and resumed the recon work that I’d been assigned to. In hindsight, of course, this was a horrible idea, but we thought we were dealing with pretty standard, run of the mill witches. Had we known what we knew afterwards, the boys would have never sent me to do this on my own. But, we didn’t know, and so I rounded on the large house, seeing if I could observe anything about the witches we were hunting from the outside. I was able to make it all the way onto the porch and I carefully peered into a window, but as I now expected, I was hit with a spell from behind, stunning me and dropping me where I was. I was still fully conscious, but I couldn’t move, and the witch stood over me, grinning wickedly. “Well, well, well. Not who we were expecting, but maybe this can still work …”

 

She hauled me into the house, none too gently, and deposited me on a table in the basement. Fear was trickling up my spine as all I could do was lie there and blink. The boys weren’t expecting me back for a while yet, so the witches had plenty of time to do whatever it was they wanted. Maybe this was it, this was the end for me. I had certainly thought so at the time, though now I knew it wasn’t. That knowledge did little to stifle the growing panic inside me as the witch went about fetching ingredients and pouring over a large, old-looking book after she sent off a message on her phone. How long I laid there, I couldn’t even say, as the witch went back and forth, upstairs and back down, doing whatever it was she was doing. I tried to call out to Castiel, hoping he was tuned in and able to pick up my prayers, but it seemed he wasn’t listening, and I was alone with my thoughts. It felt like hours passed as I laid there, but I couldn’t get a good sense of time as there were no windows to judge the sun’s passage through the sky.

 

Finally, a break in the monotony. The door opened upstairs and footsteps traversed the floor, making their way to the basement door before they descended. Two more witches joined the first, one of them eyeing me with disgust before remarking, “She’s not the one we want, she’s useless. Where’s Lucifer’s vessel? We need _his_ blood for the ritual. We cannot afford delays, this is too important. This is bigger than just us, we can’t fail, not now when we’re so close!”

 

“She was the only one who came,” the first one replied. “But don’t worry, once they realize she’s been gone too long, they’ll come looking for her.” She laughed before she added. “It will be too late, even if they make it to her. I’ve been wanting to test out this stasis spell for a while, looks like I’ll get my chance.”

 

The three witches laughed as they started setting up for the spell, leaving me to lie there and process as they did. Sam. They wanted _Sam_. This information seemed vitally important, and I held on to it as the witch started casting. In a last ditch effort, I called out to Castiel one last time as the spell settled around me, and before it took hold I heard the tell-tale flutter of wings that signified the angel’s arrival.

 

Instead of sinking into blackness, as I had the first time around, this time it was light that surrounded me, encasing my body and almost blinding me until everything came back into focus and Bobby was standing over me. “Emmeline?” he asked, his lined face etched with concern.

 

“They wanted Sam,” I breathed out.

 

“What? Who wanted Sam?”

 

“Those witches … they were trying to draw out the Winchesters and set them up so they could do something with Sam. Something about needing the blood of Lucifer’s vessel for an important ritual.” I shook my head as I sat up. “It’s a good thing they took care of them.”

 

“Balls,” Bobby whispered under his breath.

 

“What?” I asked.

 

Bobby sighed as he told me, “They didn’t get all of the witches. They killed two there, but one of them got away. That’s why I came here, so I could bring the ingredients they needed for a tracking spell. They were going after her tonight.”

 

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, hopping up and snatching my phone off of the table, immediately dialing Sam. “How long have I been out?”

 

“Maybe an hour or so.”

 

I tapped my foot impatiently, listening to it ring and ring and eventually go to voicemail. I cursed under my breath and pulled up Dean’s number and repeated the process. And, just like with Sam’s number, it rang until it went to voicemail. “Shit! Where did they go, Bobby? I need to get to them!”

 

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea, Em, you’re not exactly in fighting shape …”

 

“I remember, Bobby, I remember everything, and the boys are probably walking into a trap _right now_.”

 

He gave me the address of the place and I sprinted back into the room I shared with Sam, flinging open my foot locker and grabbing my gun, making sure it was loaded with witch-killing bullets before shoving it down the back of my pants, safety on. I grabbed my field jacket and my motorcycle helmet before I ran back down the hallway and into the garage, heading straight for my bike and starting it up. This couldn’t happen, this just couldn’t happen now. I had finally gotten all of my memories back, and now that I _remembered_ , I couldn’t lose him. Not now, not ever. As I revved the engine and steered onto the road, my heart was pounding a mile a minute. _Just hold on, Sam, I’m on my way._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand here we are, at the end. It's been a bit of a ride to get here, and I'm so happy that I picked up this prompt and decided to write it, as I've really enjoyed writing this. I hope y'all enjoyed reading it just as much!

The address that Bobby gave me was a little over an hour away, give or take, depending on how fast one went. If they’d gone straight to this house from the bunker, I should have been able to catch them before they went in. The fact that I wasn’t able to worried me to no end, wondering if Dean had made double time. _Shit, of all the fucking times._ As I rode, I was frantically praying to Castiel, hoping that I was able to get a message to him in time before something bad happened. He didn’t always have his ears on; Dean was the only one he was so attuned to he would hear him every time, but I had to try. I’d try anything I could.

 

I weaved in and out of traffic, pushing my bike as much as I could, ignoring the speed limit signs along the highway. I was normally a careful driver, since being a hunter I sometimes ended up a little too close to illicit activities and I never wanted to chance being recognized or picked up for it, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. Sam was potentially in a lot of trouble, and I had to get to him as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure what this ritual was that the witch had been talking about, but it seemed pretty damn serious and not something that they would just drop because most of them were killed off. I wasn’t sure how one witch was going to corner two experienced hunters and an angel, but I couldn’t take the risk that she would succeed. The boys were only human, and Castiel wasn’t all-powerful, even as a seraph. Of course, if she did manage to trap them all, I wasn’t sure what exactly _I_ was going to do, but I couldn’t just sit by and let her do her voodoo on my boyfriend, especially not after I finally got my memories back.

 

As I rode out onto the dirt road that led to the remote property Bobby had pinpointed, I kept my eyes peeled for anything significant. I didn’t think the witch would have trapped them too far from her house, if not waiting until they were in the house itself, but I wasn’t going to chance missing something in my haste. It was a thin line I walked, between making sure I wasn’t missing anything and hurrying up to get to the boys. _My_ boys. Even though I was only dating one of them, the other two were still like family to me, and I’d be goddamned if any witch wanted to harm them. Not without me doing anything about it, that is.

 

Because I was looking out, I spotted the impala, parked in a little copse just off of the road, maybe a quarter of a mile away from the property. I knew why they had parked here, and I pulled up beside baby, shutting off the engine and parking my bike. I hated to have to cover the rest on foot - so slowly by comparison - but like the boys, I didn’t want to alert her to my presence because of the volume of the engine. The impala was not exactly a vehicle made for stealth, and neither was my bike, but they were both work horses and so we adapted.

 

As I jogged the rest of the way, I pulled my .44 out of my pants and kept it out, aimed low for now, safety off. All of my senses were on high alert as I neared the house, keeping a look out for anything suspicious, but thankfully the outside seemed clear. Whatever was going on, it was happening inside. Internally, I crossed my fingers as I ascended the front steps, hoping that when I got in there I would find a dead witch and my guys unhurt, if not a bit surly that I’d come all the way out here. God, what I wouldn’t have given to hear one of Dean’s lectures, if only because it meant that they were all fine and I’d risked coming out for nothing. Until I knew for sure, though, I proceeded as if the witch was the one in control.

 

The front door was unlocked, and I carefully swung it open, entering cautiously. I breathed as deep and evenly as I could so as to make as little noise as possible as I walked through the house, walking toe to heel to move silently. Even with the hardwood floors, my boots could barely be heard as I made my way further in. Despite the urge to run ahead and find them, I didn’t let my emotions override my training. I peeked around the edges of every doorway, clearing each room as I went, my heart pounding wildly in my chest with tension. Near the back of the house was a particularly large room, and as I peeked around the edge, I saw Castiel standing there, encircled by a ring of fire. _Fuck, this witch bitch has holy oil! Oh fuck me._ The angel looked rather distressed as he fidgeted in place, unable to get himself out and help the boys, who were undoubtedly in a world of trouble right now.

 

Even though I knew that only one witch had survived from last time, I didn’t want to take any chances and rush in. If I was the only source of salvation, I couldn’t jeopardize my position. I looked around and then peeked around the edge of the door again, focusing my thoughts into a prayer. _Castiel, it’s Emmeline. I’m in the house and in visual contact with you. If it’s safe to come free you, nod your head._ I held my breath as I waited, hoping that Castiel had his ears on and could hear me. I didn’t really want to draw attention to myself unnecessarily, but if it came down to it, I would. Having an angel by my side would definitely increase our chances against a powerful witch.

 

It felt like whole minutes passed, but it was probably only a few seconds before I saw Castiel slowly nod his head. Breathing a sigh of relief, I still kept my guard up as I entered the room. Cas could see where I was now, and he looked puzzled but relieved at the same time. “Emmeline, why are you here?”

 

“What does it look like? Rescuing your ass,” I replied, shedding my coat and lying it on top of one part of the ring of holy fire, stomping a part of it out before stepping aside and letting Cas walk outside of the ring. “I got my memories back and I remembered, before they put that stasis spell on me, they were discussing doing something to Sam. Something big.”

 

The angel nodded. “It’s an ancient ritual. It appears that with it, they can use the blood of Lucifer’s vessel in order to free him from the cage.”

 

“Fuck, that’s not good. Where is the witch now?”

 

Castiel squinted slightly, and for a moment it looked like he was looking _beyond_ … beyond the walls, beyond the house, casting his net wide to pinpoint where the brothers were. It wasn’t but a second later and he said, “She has taken them to a ritual tent set up near the edge of the forest.” He looked back at me before he said, “She has already started the ritual.”

 

“No! Cas, we need to go to them, _now_.”

 

“Agreed,” he replied. “Get ready to attack as soon as we appear, I don’t know that she’ll give us much of a window.”

 

I nodded and let him take my shoulder so he could fly us to the tent. We only spent a few moments in the swirling void filled with the sound of flapping wings before we appeared in the tent. I had only seconds to take in the sight before us, see Dean restrained by magic on one side of the tent, in plain view of what she was doing to Sam, which was carving some sort symbols into his skin. Anger coursed through me as I raised my gun, bitterness pouring out of me as I spoke, “Get your fucking hands off of my boyfriend.”

 

She turned but didn’t even get a chance to respond as I pulled the trigger, the bullet leaving a hole right in the middle of her forehead, her face stuck in a stunned expression as her body fell to the floor.

 

Once she fell, the spells that she’d used to restrain Sam and Dean immediately deactivated, leaving them free upon her death. They seemed to be in a state of shock and disbelief, and my heart tightened to see Sam in the state he was in, stripped from the waist up, symbols carved into his skin. Thankfully it seemed we’d interrupted the ritual just in time, and the damage wasn’t irreparable and from all outward appearances Lucifer was still locked tight in his cage. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore, a rush of emotions filling me as I rushed forward and threw my arms around him, pulling him into a kiss.

 

He seemed surprised, and while he returned the kiss, when we parted he looked like he wanted to check my temperature to make sure I was alright. “Em, what’s …”

 

I couldn’t even wait until he finished before I blurted out, in a hushed whisper, “I remember, Sam. I remember _everything_.”

 

His eyes lit up as the meaning of my words sunk in. “You do?”

 

I nodded, and it was him this time that pulled me into a kiss, holding me close to him, the blood oozing from his cuts already forgotten in the bliss of our reunion. Even though I had personally only walked through a few different memories, when I’d woken up, I’d remembered everything from my past. From growing up in Calgary, learning to hunt, going out with other hunters until I was comfortable enough to work solo, hooking up with Eileen and following her across Canada and eventually back down across the border, meeting the Winchesters, hunting with the brothers, falling for Sam … I remembered every single part of our relationship, from our nervous first kiss, to the first time we fucked, every time we hung out or clung to each other was branded once more in my memory. We had lost so much time because of this damn coven, and I was ready to put it behind us once more.

 

We broke apart only when we heard a rather familiar cough, and I turned to see Dean Winchester standing next to Castiel, cautious hope pleading in his eyes as he asked, “You remember?”

 

I nodded, and the look of relief that swept over the older Winchester was palpable. He crossed the small room and pulled me into a hug, murmuring, “It’s good to have you back, kiddo.”

 

“Yeah, it’s good to be back.”

 

———

 

I breathed out a sigh that was closer to a moan as I stepped under the shower head back in the bunker. The ride back had been uneventful, and an anxious Bobby had greeted us upon our return, both thankful that we were all alive and well and also annoyed that we had all just up and left, leaving him worried. I did feel a bit bad for him, but my bike was about the fastest thing left in the garage, so I hadn’t the time to wait for Bobby and his truck. He understood, and he really was glad we were all fine. Dean offered to make him his famous burgers to try to make up for it, and Bobby wasn’t about to turn that down. First, though, we’d all needed to shower off the sweat and grime that we’d all accumulated from the short hunt. Sam and I had let Dean and Cas go first, since it was apparent from the way they kept touching each other and invading their personal space that they needed some private time, and we were more than happy to give it to them. We busied ourselves with whatever we could find as far away from the showers as we could until they finally emerged, clean and with that hazy, satisfied expression that only came after a round of good sex.

 

As I worked my soap into a lather and scrubbed myself clean, I was still experiencing random memories flitting through my head. Just little things here and there, like moments from my time on the road with Eileen, to a date or two with Sam, to movie night with the whole family. Metatron may have given Castiel all of the knowledge of pop culture from the past however many years, but to see him see the _sources_ of that knowledge was … interesting. Entertaining, at the very least. So many memories of nights spent on the road, in low brow motel rooms, researching and hunting and then moving on to the next town. Occasionally getting separate rooms on opposite sides of the motel just so both couples could get some alone time. Otherwise, clinging to each other in the night in a shared bed, content simply to be close to one another.

 

Rinsing off, I heard the other shower that Sam occupied turn off, and after a few moments I saw his vague outline cross the room and exit the bathroom. I was done, just letting myself get lost in random memories, reveling in the feeling of knowing exactly who I was, something I hadn’t been able to do for the past couple of weeks.

 

And I also knew exactly who I wanted. It had been far too long.

 

Turning off the water, I grabbed my towel and quickly dried off, wrapping it around me before slipping out the bathroom and back down the hallway, moving as silently as possible, even though I was safe in the bunker. It was just habit, really. I think we all did it to some extent, most of the time. Being a hunter, it was just ingrained in us.

 

I opened the door to our room just as Sam had pulled on a pair of boxers. He turned around to see me, clad in a towel, and smiled. I returned it, closing the door and then crossing the floor to where he stood, wrapping my hands around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He returned it with fervor and I gently pushed him back until his legs hit the edge of the bed. A small shove later and he sat down on it, looking up at me curiously. I smirked as I leaned over for one more kiss. “We have time, and I’ve been missing you a little too much lately.” With that, I dropped the towel and straddled his lap, drinking in the long, lingering kiss I left on his lips. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close to him, pressing our still slightly damp skin together. My fingers tangled in his longer hair, relishing its silky feel. Pants turned into moans as his fingers ghosted over my skin, knowing just where to touch and how. Even after not being together like this for months now, he still remembered every little spot that drove me wild.

 

And I was rediscovering his. My lips eventually left his, brushing against his jaw before they settled right below his ear. I heard him gasp, at first tensing and then relaxing as I nipped at his skin. I could feel him getting hard beneath me, separated only by a thin pair of boxers, and I slowly ground against him. He rolled his hips up against me in response, encouraging as one of his hands wandered across the curve of my ass and squeezing. I slipped a hand between us, rubbing across his length before delicately pulling it out through the hole in the front of his boxers, more than ready to go ahead and get this show on the road.

 

I kissed him gently as I ran the end of his length up and down my slit, teasing both of us, ramping up the anticipation until I slipped him inside of me. I closed my eyes as I lowered myself on him, tilting my head back as I made my way down. He took the opportunity to kiss and nip at my neck as our hips found each other and he was buried to the hilt. He wasn’t exactly the smallest guy, so I had to take a few minutes to adjust to his size, especially seeing as we hadn’t done the deed in a while. He let me set the pace, content to lave attention on my lips and neck for now until I started rocking against him. He moved in response, his hips rolling up against mine and his hands wandering over my body, always making sure to have at least one arm wrapped around me to steady me. I was so completely filled it was hard to breathe, but I still wanted _more_ , always more as I picked up a little speed.

 

We were moving in tandem now, reacclimating to each other’s bodies. We hadn’t forgotten, we just needed a little reminding and then once we had that, it was like falling back into rhythm, like that age-old metaphor about riding a bike. You might wobble a little bit at first, maybe reaching out and steadying yourself with your foot for a second, but you quickly got back into it, remembering how to balance and move forward at the same time. I rested my forehead against his for a moment, our eyes closed, just giving in to the physical sensations of the moment, the feeling of being so close and intimate with someone you deeply love.

 

Sam reached up to kiss me, long and passionate before he suddenly stood up and flipped us over on the bed so that he was on top. He stroked inside me a couple of times before he withdrew, causing me to whimper at the loss. He broke away from the kiss and said, “I’ve been waiting way too long for this.” He left my lips with one more kiss before he started making his way down my body, licking here, nipping there, until he finally rested between my legs. He didn’t draw it out or make my body tight with tension as he teased, no he was far beyond that at this point. He dove right in, flicking my clit before dipping his tongue inside me. I cried out, gripping the sheets underneath me as he reached up to rub my clit with his fingers as he worked his tongue. When he withdrew his tongue from me, he replaced it with a finger as he sucked and licked at my clit, always making sure he wasn’t leaving me wanting between the two. He alternated like that, switching fingers and tongue until I was a writhing mess, skirting dangerously close to the edge of orgasm. I swore under my breath, pleading, “Sam, please, please don’t stop.” I could feel his grin against my thigh as he buried his tongue as deep inside me as he could get and that was it, it was just enough to push me over the cliff’s edge and I almost bit through my lip trying not to scream through the climax. A flash of heat rushed over my body as I trembled through the aftershocks, barely even realizing that Sam had crawled back up the bed and was hovering over me until I was looking in his eyes.

 

It was in moments like these where we could be vulnerable, where we didn’t need the hardened, hunter exterior. We could drop those masks and expose our true selves to each other, something we couldn’t do with just anybody. His fingers caressed my cheek before he bent down to envelop me in a kiss, his hardness pressing against my thigh as his tongue entangled with mine, mixing my taste with his. I pulled him close to me, wanting to feel every inch of him that I could against me, and he was more than happy to oblige as he teased my entrance with his cock. I realized then that he must have shucked his boxers before climbing back up, as instead of feeling cloth it was all skin. I hooked a leg around his waist, trying to pull him in closer, but he resisted at first, enjoying his teasing. It wasn’t until I whined, “Sam, please, I _need_ you,” that he relented and slid home.

 

I didn’t need as much time to adjust, which was a good thing as he was revved up and ready to go. He hooked an arm under the leg that I’d wrapped around his waist and hoisted it up to his shoulder, angling deeper and he stroked in and out of me. Fuck but if he wasn’t hitting everything just right, and I felt a second orgasm on the horizon already. We were all hands and lips and needy moans and I wondered vaguely if we shouldn’t have waited on the shower until after this, as the smell of sex and sweat filled the air. I was suddenly glad that we were at the far end of the bunker, as even though we weren’t obnoxiously loud, there was no doubt to any passers by as to what exactly was going on in Sam’s room. We couldn’t silence our moans as we were finally and completely reunited with each other, after months of watching me sleep away and then weeks of having simply a shell of me around. It was our body’s turn to sigh in relief, welcoming back the familiar, intimate sensations that were coursing through us.

 

We were getting so caught up in the sensations, he pulled back from my lips for a moment, unable to properly concentrate on more than one thing at a time. I didn’t protest, because the way he was stroking was getting me close to the end yet again. My hands didn’t know where they wanted to rest, traveling up his arms to his shoulders, up and around his neck and back down again. They finally came to rest on his biceps, flexed and hard from the way he was holding himself up on the bed. My head flopped back against the mattress as I closed my eyes, reveling in what he was doing to me, all the sensations he was setting off like the expert he was. He was back in the groove now, and he angled his hips so that he kept hitting that certain spot inside me that made me swear I was going to see stars soon enough. I could tell he was getting close, himself, by the way he was panting and tensing, trying to hold off. I hooked my other leg around his waist, drawing him even closer, to both myself and release. At feeling my leg loop around him, he pressed a bruising kiss against my lips as he reached in between us, his thumb finding and working at my clit, trying to bring me along with him. It was working, too, as my fingers dug into his arms as he kept pushing me closer and closer. Our lips parted as we both gasped and panted, right there at the edge, our bodies thrumming with energy and tension as we knew we were close, so close to the release it craved. I opened my eyes right before he drove me over the edge, his eyes shining with lust as he joined me just a second or two later. Our bodies trembled against each other as we processed through our mutual highs, a couple of tears slipping out of my eyes as I came down.

 

Sam regained coherency a little quicker than I did, getting to his feet and grabbing his discarded boxers to help with clean up, tossing them to me. My eyebrow quirked and he shrugged as he laid back down on the bed. “Dunno where my towel is right now. Just did laundry, though.”

 

I chuckled as I cleaned up, snuggling up to his side when I was finished. As we touched, waves of pleasure still washed over us in our post-orgasmic, blissful state. I shivered slightly, the air suddenly feeling chilly after our impromptu workout. I knew I was probably going to be a little sore afterwards, but it was worth it. _Totally worth it_ , I thought as I simply snuggled closer to him, absorbing the heat his body was giving off. Everything felt like it had fallen back into place, the puzzle finally put back together, and we were right back where we had been before I’d been hit with that spell.

 

It definitely seemed back to normal when the door unexpectedly opened and Dean walked in, about to tell us that dinner was almost ready but instead getting an eyeful of a different kind of rump roast. “Seriously, you guys?” he asked as he held up his hand to shield his eyes. “You couldn’t wait until after dinner for that?”

 

“You and Cas didn’t even wait until after a shower!” Sam protested.

 

“But you didn’t get an eyeful of your brother’s dick and his partner’s ass, did you?” I was doing my damnedest to suppress my giggles, but I wasn’t successful at all as I buried my face in Sam’s shoulder. “Dinner’ll be ready in about ten minutes,” he added before he went to leave.

 

“Knock next time, will you?” Sam tossed at him as he walked out the door.

 

“Oh don’t worry, I’m _calling_ you next time, so keep your phone on.”

 

As he closed the door behind him, it only took one shared look between us before we both collapsed on each other, laughing until tears were running down our faces. Yep, things were definitely back to normal now.


End file.
